For Want of a Nail
by ink.quills
Summary: Dave just wanted to start over. Was that too much to ask?
1. Prologue

_There are not enough Drave fics here; I don't understand the lack of slash. I adore this couple and decided I might as well make something for them. Maybe, if I get lucky, someone will actually like this. This chapter is intentionally short, because, for obvious reasons, it's a prologue. Nothing mind-blowing. Next chapter will have more length. Feel free to review, flame, fave, whatever._

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><p>PROLOGUE<p>

**"_Never be sad for what is over, just be glad that it was once yours." ~Unknown_**

"What are you doing tonight?"

It was Bennet. He removed the pillow from his head and looked at his roommate. He was jovial, cheerful. It was all an act, though. Dave was not that oblivious.

"You know."

"Right. Nothing." Bennet shrugged. The action seemed forced. "So let's do something."

"What did you have in mind?"

These words caused a spark in his eyes.

"How about we enjoy the gift of liquor? Me, you, the bar," Bennet said. He grinned down at Dave. It made him feel pitied. Which he probably was.

"I don't drink."

Bennet knew him too well. He countered, "Only when you're in the mood. So, c'mon Dave, what can I do to get you in the mood?"

Dave was not enjoying the show. Bennet was a good friend, but it wasn't in his nature to pretend something big hadn't happened. He gave up on conversing and just flat-out asked, "Who set you up to this?"

"What do you mean?" He was even vying for an innocent tone.

"Was it Balthazar? Or Veronica?"

Bennet didn't say anything for a moment. Then, "Nobody set me up, Dave. I really want to take you out. We haven't hung out in a long time."

"Okay."

"I know you're still upset over…her."

"I'm contemplating. Not upset," Dave corrected, trying to keep his tone flat.

If Bennet wanted to have a good time with him, he would've said, in a demanding tone, "We gotta go out, Dave. We have to. We haven't hung out in forever; now get your coat and remember to lock the door." Balthazar and Veronica knew how mopey he had been for the past few weeks; one of them probably requested Bennet to do something with him.

Of course, he couldn't blame Bennet for not approaching him earlier. He had been…very tense, very angry before.

But now? He was just contemplating.

"Sure, sure." The smile on Bennet's face was sad. "But ease up a little. Let's grab takeout or watch a movie. Something."

He hadn't intended to go anywhere tonight. Not for the next month either. But Dave knew if he kept this up, no one would be able to stand him. Just because his romantic life was evaporating, it didn't mean he had the right to make everyone else miserable.

"Something," Dave agreed. "Sounds good." He broke into a small smile, and despite being insincere, Bennet bought it. Or pretended to.

"Pack mates forever, Dave."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Fuck."

The swear was loud in the empty room. It almost seemed to echo.

Drake propped himself up on the elbows. He had a massive headache and his legs felt like they had been depraved of blood flow. He could recall what happened, but the memories didn't come so quickly.

It took a good fifteen minutes for him to get the picture. Drake swore again; that bastard! That dirty, lying bastard! Morganians were like that, but he hadn't predicted Horvath would get rid of him. He should've seen it coming.

Why didn't he?

_Because you're an idiot,_ his subconscious replied.

_Shut up_, Drake shot back. Fighting with his own head; the perfect image of a genius.

Drake picked himself up and gazed around the room. The sight of black shoes caught his eye. The body was concealed by the desk. A horrible feeling bloomed in his stomach.

There was a young girl on the floor, her eyes shut and her skin pale. Drake brushed her cheek. He didn't bother to take her pulse. For some reason, it felt like she was already dead.

How old had this girl been?

"Bastard," Drake said to no one in particular. "Stupid, fat, soddin' bastard."

He had to get out of here. He didn't have a clue as to what to do with the body. He ultimately decided to call off any plans for the next couple of weeks. Drake made the calls and crossed dates off his calendar. He'd leave the girl for now, and then when he made up his mind, he would find a proper morgue. Or something.

Drake put on his coat and made a beeline for the door.


	2. One

_I've gotten a considerable amount of faves/alerts, which is pretty nice, and surprising. A big thanks to sandcat118 and aquacanis. Oh, and, consider the beginning quote a little warning for the next chapter. And remember, a true Drave fan reviews. Or, a true reader reviews._

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><p>1.<p>

**"_First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you." ~Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald_**

The bar was a bad idea.

Scratch that—the bar was a good idea. Dave could have a drink and lose himself in a blissful alcohol-fueled haze while forgetting _her_ in the process. It might have happened that way too if Bennet hadn't met the twins.

As soon as they entered the place, Bennet prowled around for a victim. Kelley had broken up with him two weeks earlier. He wasn't looking for sex, Dave knew, but a replacement.

Then again, replacements lead to sex, don't they?

Dave followed Bennet around glumly. He didn't want his friend to make a fool of himself. And he was the one carrying the car keys.

Five minutes later, Bennet wound up with two girls and a couple of beers. They were twins: beautiful, blue-eyed, and young. Way too young, Dave thought, for someone of Bennet's age. His roommate was wasting his time.

Dave didn't say anything as the three exchanged flirtatious looks. He pretended he didn't see Bennet's thumbs up. He seated himself at a booth and watched. Seeing the trio, giddy and drunk with pleasure and simply drunk—it made him sick.

He played with napkins. He didn't even bother to panic when Bennet and the twins disappeared.

_What a crappy pack mate._

**.**

**.**

**.**

The sharp wind bit at his cheeks as Drake hurriedly walked down the cracked sidewalk. His coat did nothing against the cold. At least the sky was a good sign; it meant that the Rising had failed. Drake doubled his pace, but kept an eye out for the people he passed. He doubted Horvath would be near. It didn't hurt to check.

One of the stupidest things to do in his situation was get drunk. Get wasted on tequila or three cocktails.

That's exactly what Drake Stone was planning to do. Maybe he would find a nice, pretty lady to take his mind off things. Just for a little while, until he figured out how to solve his problems.

Drake stopped at a bar. He knew of its existence but had only gone in once or twice. The place sucked; the drinks were decent and the people were harmless, but the whole bar reeked of personal problems. Who needed to be surrounded by so much emotional warfare?

He went inside. He bet no one would recognize him; they'd probably be too drunk anyways. The heat caused him to unbutton his coat. He found his way to the counter and ordered a drink. While the bartender went to fix it up, he kept his eyes out for any familiar faces. Specifically, those of Horvath and Balthazar Blake.

The bartender arrived with his cocktail. He paid her and sipped it quietly. Drake wondered what sort of girl he would get this time. It had been months since he'd had relations.

Drake's pondering was interrupted by a loud male's voice.

"Where do you two live?"

Another drunk. This one's speech was slurred and slow. Drake turned to the man; maybe he had some women with him. Drake had nothing against sleeping with girls who had dates.

The bloke was dark-skinned and had a big figure. There were good-looking twins with him. Drake dismissed them when he realized they were probably both eighteen, or at least approaching eighteen-years-old.

"We live in an apartment. With our mom," one of the girls replied. She was evidently drunk as well. She giggled as her words strung together.

Two teenage girls living in a middle-class apartment with their forty-year-old mother. How _charming_, Drake thought. He pitied the poor soul; making a fool of himself in front of drunk children.

"Bennet!"

Drake suddenly sat up. This voice sounded familiar. He watched, curious and astounded, as the Prime Merlinean made his way to Bennet.

He was surprised to see him, of all people, in a bar. He'd had limited encounters with the Prime, but from what he sized up, this one was a nerd. He wouldn't be caught dead in a bar.

And why did he look different? Drake couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew there was something off about the Prime.

"Bennet, let's just get out of here," he said to him.

"Naw, man," his friend whined. "I gotta talk to the ladies!" He put a finger to his lips as if it were a secret; a big hoot considering he practically screamed it at everyone.

Drake never thought he would feel bad for the nerdy kid.

"Bennet." There was a warning. "The twins are too young for you. Now, come _on_, or I'm calling the police."

This Bennet was too drunk to understand what Dave was saying. Dave sighed and turned to the girls, asking both of them if they could persuade Bennet to go. Judging by the looks on their faces, they wanted him to stay. Heavens know why.

Dave looked frustrated as he rubbed his temples. "Please, Bennet. This is stupid. We should've stayed home." He sounded like he was talking to himself rather than his mate.

Drake turned back to his drink. As entertaining as this was, he wasn't in the mood to enjoy the show. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

"I'm mentioning this to Balthazar," the boy grumbled to himself. "And Veronica. Maybe they'll stop bugging you to take me out, then."

"Only asked one time, man," Bennet replied.

Anyone else would've gotten up and walked away with their drink by then. But Drake was a ringless sorcerer looking for an opportunity. A plan formed in his head. He pushed his empty glass away, stood up, and closed the distance between him and the Prime.

With a smile on his face, he tapped him on the shoulder.

Dave jumped. He whipped around, his eyes growing as wide as sand dollars. Drake couldn't help but chuckle.

"I know you," he sputtered. "From the bathroom."

"Ew," the twin girls said at the same time.

"Mind your own business," Dave shot at them; he used a little more force than necessary. Drake raised a brow.

"It's nice to see you again," he said coolly. "Havin' troubles with your mate?"

Dave stared at him for a few seconds, but answering, dejectedly, "Yes, I am. What is it to you?"

Jeez. Where did that attitude come from?

"Calm down," Drake said, unknowingly assuming an air of arrogance. "I just happened to be in the same bar as you, an' then I saw this little spectacle. Thought Merlineans were supposed to be nice."

Dave looked panicked, then. He turned to see if the girls or Bennet had heard, but all of them were busy chugging down more alcohol.

"Lower your voice," Dave hissed. "Someone might hear you."

"Yeah, I bet someone would." Allowing himself another smile, he continued. "Surprised I'm alive?"

"Lower your voice," he repeated. "And, yes, I am. Why are you here? _Who_ sent you here? Was it Horvath?" The Prime suddenly looked around; he suspected other Morganians were in the area.

"Stop overreacting. Sit down with me and I'll tell you everything."

"I can't leave my friend."

"He's drunk. With two girls. I'm sure he'll stay in the same spot for a while."

Drake just had to chuckle at Dave's expression.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dave was torn. He knew it wouldn't be smart of him to go with him. This man almost attempted to kill him, once. His instincts protested wildly, told him to grab Bennet and get out. But there was another part of him that wanted to agree. Yes, he _wanted_ to talk with him. It was better than being with a drunk and two stupid girls.

And a small, small, very puny part of him knew talking to a complete stranger—talking to someone who tried to kill him—got his mind of her.

_I'm a selfish person_, Dave thought. _What if he tries to kill me? Who's gonna defend the world then?_

"C'mon, Dave. I'm not gonna hurt you." He waved his hand. "No ring, see? No ring, no magic. You're safe. It's Drake Stone, by the way. Look me up later."

He nodded to the blonde. "Where do you want to sit?"

"A private booth would be good." Dave followed him to a secluded booth.

"How are you alive?" was the first thing out of his mouth.

"First things first. Did the Rising occur?"

Dave nodded. "I stopped Morgan before she completed it." Then he cringed. Becky helped him. He tried not to remember what happened next.

"Ah," Drake said. "I don't know why I'm alive. The Parasite Spell should've killed me off. It killed the girl."

Abigail Williams. So she was gone but Drake was not? "A girl was in your apartment? Did she have black hair?"

"Yep."

"That's Abigail Williams from the Salem Trials. It's a good thing she's dead," Dave said offhandedly. "She would be a real threat."

"Her?" Drake said, apparently scoffing. "She's only a kid."

"She's also the only kid that was in the Grimhold." He enjoyed the small silence, ensuring him a victory.

"Hmm. What about Horvath? Did ya catch the bastard?"

Dave winced at the word. "I thought you respected him. You seemed willing to stand by and let him kill me."

"Hey, mate, it was either you or me." A pause. "Well, actually, it would've been both of us either way. Just another thing we have in common."

This made Dave laugh darkly. "What else do we have in common?"

"Our initials are D and S. Did you catch him?"

"No," he admitted. "He got away, I think. I'm sure he's alive, but Balthazar, my master, isn't that worried at the moment. He's with…" He stopped short. That wasn't his information to reveal.

"All right, I get it. He's out there somewhere. I was sure of it." Drake sighed.

The blonde ordered two screwdrivers then. When the drinks came, Dave blurted out, "I don't drink."

Drake winked at him. "Neither do I." He took a large sip.

Dave, who did drink once in a while, toyed with the glass. He certainly didn't like the (revolting) combination of vodka and orange juice, but he knew he came to the bar to get drunk. To forget.

_Cheers to forgetting,_ he thought wearily as he downed the entire glass.


	3. Two

_Quick note: Magnus Bane, for those who don't know, is a character from the Mortal Instruments series. Drake actually reminded me of him: spiky hair, glitter, flamboyant clothing, similar attitude. Creepy resemblance._

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><p>2.<p>

**"_Good luck happens when preparedness meets opportunity." ~Unknown_**

When Dave woke up that morning and saw an unfamiliar ceiling and felt foreign, silky sheets, he didn't panic or break into a nervous sweat. Oh no, instead, he relaxed back into the mattress and pillows.

He closed his eyes for a minute; his head hurt. He smelled men's cologne. Dave opened them again and got a look at his surroundings. The whole room was spacey and large. He was on an elegant gold-and-white bed lined with luxurious fabric. Dave felt around slowly; even his own bed didn't feel that comfortable. It looked like he had slept in this bed; no one else was lying next to him, like he thought. Dave laid his eyes on double closet doors. He raised his brows when he saw the expensive-looking vanity desk on his left. Perfume and nail polish bottles stood on the surface among a clutter of various items: rings, a box of glitter, gold and silver beads, a small hand mirror, and even _makeup._

_I'm in the lair of Magnus Bane_, thought Dave.

He heard the sound of running water. Dave slipped out of bed. He was relieved to see his boxers and his t-shirt relatively unharmed. Despite not having a recollection of any previous events, Dave was sure something sexual had happened. What else was he to think when waking up in a stranger's bed?

Dave sunk to the burgundy carpet-covered floor. He didn't remember much. He _did_ know that Bennet brought him somewhere, somewhere he normally wouldn't be. It was a bar…or a club of some sorts. It was to take his mind off that girl. Dave chuckled humorlessly to himself. What a way to forget.

"Chuckling so darkly in the morning, Dave?"

Dave looked up. It was that blonde Morganian at the bar, Drake something. He was wearing nothing but black boxers and an unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt. He was holding a toothbrush in his mouth. It must've been him in that unseen bathroom.

"How do you chuckle darkly?" Dave asked, fazed by his sudden appearance.

"I dunno. It's somethin' like this?" He attempted to laugh like a Disney villain.

He kind of chocked on the toothbrush.

"What am I doing here?" Dave inquired. He really didn't want the answer, if truth be told.

"Oh? You don't remember?" Drake raised his own eyebrows. He plucked the toothbrush out of his mouth.

He shook his head. "My memories are fuzzy. You might wanna fill me in."

"Or maybe not. It's kind of ugly."

A cold chill ran down Dave's spine. "What the hell happened last night?"

Drake sighed more dramatically than needed. He sat himself on the vanity desk's chair, and proceeded to look at himself through the oval mirror. He combed his hair with a brush but it didn't do much to tame the blonde spikes.

"Tell. Me."

"Ugh, hold on. My hair's a mess." He peered at himself in the mirror. "Maybe Bob can do somethin' about it."

Dave strode over to him and yanked he brush out of his hands. "I've been through a very messy breakup and judging by the pounding headache, a hangover. So it would be great if you told me what happened in the previous hours."

Drake snatched the brush back at inhuman speeds. "Okay, okay, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

Dave waited on the bed.

"Lemme start at… Oh yeah, the drinks." He adjusted himself on the chair. "We had drinks."

"I recall that part. Beer?" Dave guessed.

"Screwdrivers," Drake corrected. "And some martinis. Crappy martinis, but alcohol nonetheless."

Dave was beginning to have a bad feeling with this. When he drank, he tended to get more tipsier than average people. "What else?" He urged Drake to continue.

"We lost track of our conversation. You an' I started talkin' about all sorts of things. Like Bennet and our favorite type of drinks." He paused. "I even asked if you were a virgin."

Dave groaned, expressing emotion he hadn't in weeks. He put his hands in his head.

"I found Bennet and he was pretty upset because the twins were gone. I brought him to you and told him to take you home."

"Did he?" Dave asked scathingly.

"You were really drunk, Dave," Drake said, ignoring the question. "I was a little intoxicated. Bennet was not in a good state either, so being the good guy I am, I paid a cabbie to take him home."

"Do you even know where we live?"

"Nope. But at least he knew his own address." Drake put the brush down. "So anyways, after he was gone, you raised a ruckus. People were startin' to look on and I didn't need any problems going public."

"Why would they?"

"I'm famous, don't you know? And no, I'm _not_ in Depeche Mode." Drake grounded his teeth, annoyed with the past comparison.

"Oh. I didn't know," Dave admitted. "So what else happened?"

"I took you to my place," Drake responded. He gestured to the room. "Nice, innit?"

"Keep going."

"You told me about a blonde girl. Becca, or something? I don't know how, but eventually, we ended up on that bed"—he pointed an accusing finger at the mentioned bed—"and dabbled in some foreplay."

Dave grimaced at the word. "Please, please, _please_ do not tell me I lost my virginity to _you_," he moaned.

"What's wrong with losing it to me? I'm famous, I'm rich, I'm good-looking. I think I'm one of the top candidates to lose your virginity to."

"No," Dave snapped in return. "Maybe for some girls, but not for me. _I'm a guy. I've only ever dated females. I don't do it with guys._ I never have and I never will."

"You did it with me," Drake pointed out.

"I was _drunk!_"

"Calm down. I never did anything to you and vice versa. It was only foreplay and I told you to cut it out. I know prudes like you would've raised a fit to having a good night."

Dave breathed in relief. "So that's why I'm only in my boxers, right?"

"And shirt," Drake added. "But yeah, you're right. And I knew you'd probably complain to that master of yours. Balthazar Blake, right?"

"That's the one."

"So we didn't do anything. Which made you upset, but I can't blame you. I'd be pretty ticked if I missed this opportunity," Drake said, his voice laced with mirth.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever you think. How come you didn't send me back to the apartment?"

"By that point, I didn't want you to go anywhere. Would you prefer waking up, confused, in your own home, wondering what the hell you did last night to waking up where someone has a memory?"

He had to admit Drake was right on this one. Dave suddenly remembered who this person was. A Morganian. A Morganian who tried to kill him, pulled him in a speed chase, and had crappy hair.

"What kind of foreplay?" Dave demanded.

"It was just…foreplay. You kissed my face a lot, but not the lips. Those are special." Drake smirked. "And you straddled me. Like I said, you didn't like it when I said no more."

"Then what?"

"After, I just let you sleep in my bed. This is my only room, y'know?"

"How did I sleep?" Dave questioned.

"Like a baby," Drake remarked. "I got up earlier than you and just went to the bathroom. Next thing I know, you're awake. Got any more questions? Because I have to pee."

"They can wait," Dave said, although they could certainly not.

Drake disappeared, leaving him alone in the large room. Dave was pleased to know nothing really serious took place, but it shook him. He and Becky never went past kissing, hugging, or holding hands. It was a taboo in their relationship. Had they even ever discussed marriage?

Oh no, because apparently, Becky Barnes didn't think she—

"I'm back," Drake announced. "Okay, go freshen up in the bathroom. We gotta go."

"Where?" Dave asked. He slipped off the bed. His headache was gone.

"Out. I need my ring, remember?"

"Oh. You kind of expected me to take you to Balthazar and ask for it, right?" Dave couldn't help the sinking feeling of disappointment. Was that the reason the blonde approached him in the bar? He felt like a tool.

"Well…yeah. I do need it, of course."

"…I can't just go up to him and say, 'Hey, there's a Morganian out there who wants his ring back.'"

"So he has it, correct? Mine and that girl Abigail's?"

Dave nodded. His master hadn't mentioned the rings much, but he had collected them at the scene of the Rising.

"True, he might be reluctant to give it back."

"Might?" Dave repeated.

Drake grinned cheekily at him. "Or…perhaps we can try something else."

"What else?"

"Maybe _you_ can steal it back for me."

Dave balked. "What? Balthazar… No. I won't do it. Especially after what you did to me."

"Please." Drake waved a hand indifferently. "I want my ring and so would you if you were in my position."

"I don't need my ring to do magic."

The blonde raised a brow. "Interesting. But it is Merlin's ring, so I imagine you'd want it back anyways."

Dave couldn't say anything in return.

"Be a good sport, Dave. I'm totally harmless. And after that stunt Horvath pulled, do you think I'd be willing to help him or any fanatical Morganian out? I just want to continue my way of living."

The speech worked, only a little. "I guess so," Dave sighed. "But you tried to murder my master and I."

"Details," Drake scoffed. "Did I try to kill you in the bar? No. I had you at my apartment, defenseless and alone, but I didn't hurt you."

_You did. You touched me and you knew I was into girls._ But Dave didn't say these words. It would only complicate things. And he didn't want to bring his ex-girlfriend into perspective.

"I can't. Balthazar will notice."

"Has he talked about what he'll do with the rings yet?"

"He hasn't. He's in love with someone, you know. He's certainly busy."

Drake smiled. "I bet he is. He won't mind if one ring goes missing. Besides, one way or another, I'll get my ring back."

"How do you propose that?" Dave deadpanned. "Are you planning on keeping me hostage or something?"

"Tempting," Drake said, grinning. "But no. I can follow you, y'know, to your place and just find a way to seek my ring out. Very simple. I know where your underground lab is, after all."

Dave shook his head, frustrated. "I'm gonna go." He went into the bathroom, which was right down the hall. Dave ignored the fanciness of it all and quickly splashed cold water on his face. He managed to comb his hair into tame curls. He looked fine in the mirror.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked when he got back.

"On the floor, next to the bed. You tried to fold them, but failed." The blonde snickered while Dave found his things. He changed in the bathroom, hating how uncomfortable he felt in his attire.

"You look terrible," Drake announced when he got back. He had already dressed himself in new clothes. "Maybe I should take you shopping for something decent."

"Like I'd ever let you dress me." Dave looked at his hand, relieved Merlin's ring was still there. "I'm leaving now?" It sounded more like a question than an answer.

"I'm not holdin' you captive, don't worry. Go to your apartment; I won't follow you," Drake promised.

"Oh, really?"

"Really. If you're so eager, maybe I should see you later." Drake smiled once more.

Dave groaned in return. What would Bennet say if he saw this odd man appear at their door? Especially after his breakup with Becky? Dave was unnerved by the thought that Bennet might just mention him to Balthazar and Veronica.

"I have to go," Dave said, "and see if my roommate has spilled any details about our little meeting."

"It'll be our secret," Drake mocked him.

"It better be."

Dave checked to make sure he had everything. After, he headed for the door. The place was pretty simple, so he bet he could find his way out and the elevators or something.

Before he reached the hallway, Drake called, "Dave!"

He turned around unwillingly. "Yeah?"

Drake stared at him. Dave was suddenly aware of how tall he was. "You said you were happy about forgetting her, whoever the girl is. That's supposed to count for something."

Dave mumbled something in response. He left the penthouse quickly, fighting the urge to check over his shoulder the whole time.


	4. Three

**Writer Ramblings:** _Gosh, it's only the third chapter, and it's already painfully short... _

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><p>3.<p>

**"_Change in all things is sweet." ~Aristotle_**

"Bennet!"

His friend was lounging on the couch when Dave came in. He was nursing his head with an icepack. He wore a sheepish smile on his face.

"We got wasted, huh, Dave?"

"Yeah, we sure did. Hangover?"

"Please," Bennet scoffed. "I'm as solid as a rock. But yeah, it's a hangover. Where were you? Did you leave early or something?"

Dave bit down on his lip. "Hey, Bennet? What do you remember about last night?"

"Two hot girls ditching me," he replied. "And some other dude. Bartender, maybe? He was blonde and you guys were talking. You two buds?"

"Um…sorta. We've met before." Well, that wasn't a total lie.

Bennet removed his icepack. "Cool."

Dave strode across the room and took off his jacket. "Did you tell Balthazar or Veronica about this? Because in know they set you up to this."

He bristled at the statement. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right." Dave went into his room and swapped clothes. He felt much better.

"No, I didn't tell them anything. I was held off with my headache. They were worried and called yesterday… I was gonna answer it right now."

"Can you just tell them I met an old…associate? And that I'm kind of busy. And don't mention the twins!"

Bennet grinned at him from across the room. "Like I would." He picked up the phone and called Veronica. Within minutes, the two were talking like childhood friends. Dave wondered if he could get away before Veronica mentioned training.

"She wants to speak with you," Bennet announced, holding up the phone.

Dave sighed. No breaks for him. "Hello, Veronica. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Balthazar wanted me to pass along a message: training begins tomorrow, after classes and homework. He's going to teach you about water spells."

"Woohoo. Go water spells."

"Are _you_ all right? You sound much better than last time," Veronica said carefully.

"I'm just peachy."

"I heard about this associate of yours. Is he from NYU?"

Dave was a bad liar, but even he could get away with the tiniest of fibs. "Eh… He doesn't go to the college. He's more of a dropout." Who knew? Perhaps it was actually true.

"Oh," Veronica murmured. "Okay. Remember training. And one more thing, Dave."

"Yeah?" he asked, secretly dreading it.

"Do… I can talk to her, if you would like me too," she said quietly.

"No!"

Veronica answered, "I know it's too early…and you just broke it off with her."

"It was a mutual thing," Dave snapped, although it was another lie.

"Okay." She didn't sound like she believed him. "But would you mind if I spoke to her? You two are such good people, and I can't imagine a fight breaking you up at this time. You've only been dating for a couple of weeks… Maybe it's just a short thing."

"We're not getting back, Veronica," he mumbled.

"You never know, Dave. You don't want to forget about her, especially after all you've two done for each other?"

He was amazed at the fact she was so hopeful. Veronica hadn't even met Becky. "That's nice, Veronica, but it seems pathetic to have you go speak with her. You're not my mom or anything. You don't have to. And if we want to get together, we will. I'll probably see her in the halls tomorrow."

"All right… Bye, Dave."

"Goodbye." He hung up and passed the phone to Bennet. While Bennet looked mildly curious, he did not comment. Smart, Dave thought.

He chose to head to his room and review his essays. It all looked good. Dave pushed his papers away and threw himself on his bed, where he proceeded to get a moment's rest.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Drake entered his home, wondering if Dave would actually tattletale. He guessed that he probably wouldn't, considering how he could easily inform Balthy about their "sleepover."

The girl's body wasn't there anymore. He had wrapped her up and called someone to pick her up; while he didn't like the idea of dumping a kid's body somewhere, it had to be done. Drake was relieved no one had been suspicious.

Drake unlocked his fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine. He sat in his bedroom and drank. He was lying on his back and staring at the impressive ceiling.

It still kind of smelled like nerd.


	5. Four

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice (if I did, would I be on here?) and I am not making any profit off of this fic. _

**Writer Ramblings:**_ A much longer chapter. Hopefully we (ah, the unknown we) got some progress down. And yes, there's been a personality change. Thanks for Ookami Sakura for pointing that out._

* * *

><p>4.<p>

**"_Friends are born, not made." ~Henry B. Adams_**

Dave woke up a few hours later. He hadn't thought about what he would do, but he already had his answer; helping Drake would acquire lots of his attention. He'd been fine without Becky Barnes for a few weeks, but he wouldn't manage thanks to Veronica bringing her up.

Drake Stone was coming off as the perfect route of escape. Dave rolled off the bed. He sat as his desk and began to type the man's name in. He was supposedly famous, and guessing by his outrageous penthouse, he made a significant amount of money.

_What am I dealing with?_ Dave mused as he scrolled through Drake's Wikipedia page. It was full of his accomplishments and feats, as well as his status as a sex symbol.

"Jeez, what an asshole," Dave murmured to himself. Google Images provided a nice array of his outfits and performances. He also caught paparazzi pictures of Drake's old girlfriends.

Ten online fan clubs later, Dave was fully convinced he could get back on his feet. Drake would be the ultimate distraction; heck, even saying one thing about the blonde would set off his mouth.

Dave changed his clothes yet again. He suspected Drake would show up at his measly apartment in an attempt to get him outside. He might as well be prepared. He shoved his wallet in his jacket pocket and sat in the living room couch, next to Bennet.

"Waiting for someone?"

"Yeah."

**.**

**.**

**.**

After polishing off the bottle of wine, Drake rose and readied himself for his meeting with Dave. He showered first, getting off any traces of his sleepover. He felt much better when he stepped out. As soon as he was finished dressing, he left his penthouse with cigarettes in hand.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dave jumped to his feet when he heard the knock. He opened the door and was hit with the smell of shampoo. _I guess he just showered,_ thought Dave.

"Let's go," Drake said. "My car is parked outside."

Bennet's face lit up with recognition.

"This is the guy I was talking about," Dave said over his shoulder. "We're going to do some catching up. I'm not sure when I come back."

"See you later," Bennet muttered as the door closed.

Drake led Dave to an expensive-looking vehicle. Drake held out the passenger door for him, but Dave didn't feel so comfortable with the idea of sitting next to him; he took the backseat instead, earning an annoyed frown from Drake.

When Drake got in, he said, "I think you need to be a little more—"

"Fanatical?"

"…I was going to say favorable," Drake replied dryly. "I'm quite popular here."

"I can tell. I looked you up."

He seemed pleased with the fact. "Ha."

Dave jumped to his defense. "Only because I know a Depeche Mode comment would irritate you. I didn't know. Back then. I didn't even think it was possible for celebrities to be actual villains."

"Yeah, well…you should learn more about this stuff."

"Same goes for you. Balthazar told me that there are few Morganians left. Horvath obviously had to use his closest resources," Dave said, shaking his head.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Dave suppressed a smile. He pictured the look on Horvath's face when he found out he'd have to rely on _Drake_, of all people. "It means you make a horrible Morganian."

"And you're an incredible Merlinean?"

"I killed Morgana."

"Touché."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Where are we going?" It was getting dark and Dave felt a twinge of worry. "If my roommate notices I'm not back soon…"

"Don't worry about it," Drake dismissed. "He won't say a thing. And we're almost there."

"Where is 'there?'" Dave asked.

He was ignored.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The car finally stopped in front of a bar. Dave was filled with disappointment and annoyance. This was the place he was anticipating?

"Do you not recall what happened the last time you and I were at the same bar?"

"That won't happen because we won't get drunk. And it's different from the other bars," Drake replied. He wordlessly walked towards the entrance. Dave sighed and followed him in.

The bar looked similar to every bar he'd seen; well, Dave had only seen one bar in his entire life. There were more people here. Dave wrinkled his nose. Drug addicts, hopeless romantics, alcoholics. The whole gang was here.

"I think it's time to go," Dave muttered to the blonde.

"Loosen up. Quit acting like a nerd."

Dave reluctantly sat down at a booth with him. It smelled like coffee and cinnamon, which was probably the best sign he was going to get all day. Within hours, he might be lying in a Dumpster somewhere.

"See that girl over there?"

_Oh, brother._ His eyes trailed over to a redheaded girl. She had Becky's hairstyle, so he promptly looked away. "What about her?"

"Didn't notice her ring, did you?"

This time, Dave peered at her more closely. She wore a yellow ring that was sparking up a bit.

"A sorceress? What's she doing here?" He was suddenly worried with the girl's orientation more than anything.

"Relax, she's not a Merlinean or Morganian. I spoke with her a couple of times before. She used to be an apprentice, but quit."

Dave understood. "So," he said. "She abuses magic just like you, then?"

"No," Drake responded, sounding pissed. "She uses it for her own purposes."

"That's basically paraphrasing what I said."

"There's more like her here," the blonde murmured, turning to look at three men. "This bar is nothing more than a tourist attraction for sorcerers and sorceresses. That's why it's not close to the city. Magic-users come and go. I come here sometimes, although the drinks aren't as good."

"Is everyone here their own person?"

"A majority. There are humans too, you know."

"Nice to see so much selfish in the air," Dave muttered under his breath.

"Seriously," Drake said, his voice much louder. "What is your problem? I remember when we met, you weren't like this. You're still a nerd, but a different kind."

"I guess insecurity really is popular these days." And just so he didn't have to answer the question, he added, "Do you want to get your ring back or not?"

Drake broke into a grin. "So you will help me."

He shrugged. "I guess. Balthazar doesn't have any use for them. After he finishes explaining the modern world to Veronica, I'm sure he'll try to track the bodies down."

"He doesn't suspect we're alive?"

"It's only you," Dave corrected. "And yes, he doesn't. Either way, those rings are going to go. I can't ask for it and I can't steal. He'll notice."

"Why can't you and I go up to him? He knows I'm not a threat at all." He lit up. "Hey, if Balthy sees we're mates, he probably won't mind the idea."

"So that's your plan? Ask nicely and receive?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Dave snorted. "I can see the negative consequences of this plan. I think you're a little naïve, Drake."

"I think you're a nerd." Drake toyed with his scarf. "It'll work because it's me we're talking about. If this was that Williams girl, would he give back her ring?"

"No way. She's an evil little girl from what I hear."

"Exactly. If Sun Loc was in my position, would his chances be good? I don't think so. So you see, Dave, I'm going to get my ring because there is absolutely nothing wrong with me."

He felt inclined to agree. Drake wasn't a demonic child or a vengeful sorcerer. Worrying about the whole ordeal seemed silly now. Balthazar wasn't the type to hold grudges against the harmless.

"Yeah. Fine. You and me, we'll be best friends and get your ring back."

"Is he gonna make me sign a document?"

"I'm not aware of any documents, so no."

"Well, it would be a—"

"Dave?" a voice interrupted.

_My bad luck continues,_ he thought bitterly as he looked up to see Andre Dunlap. He was by himself with a drink in hand.

"Hi, Andre." Get out of my face, Andre.

"I didn't know you came here. It's a cool place, huh? Hey, do you mind pointing Becky out to me? There's been a change in the playlist and I can't reach her on her cell," he rambled.

"She's not here."

He raised his eyebrows. "Not with you? Oh. Okay."

"Try e-mailing her or something," Dave said, letting the words roll off his tongue. He wanted nothing more than to look away.

"Thanks. See you around."

When he was out of sight, Drake asked, "Friendly tension, I see."

"There's nothing friendly about it," Dave said gruffly. "He's Andre. One of my…ex-girlfriend's friends. I hate him."

"And then some, from the looks of it." He grinned. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend. Or an ex. Too moody, I guess."

"Yeah, well…"

"Wanna talk about it?" he suggested.

With a horrified expression, Dave shot back, "No!"

"Good. I could care less about some Barbie you dated."

"How did you know she was blonde?" Dave questioned.

"I didn't. I just guessed." He smiled, pleased he was correct.

"What's the time? I gotta get home," Dave muttered. He stood up and began to walk away from the booth. Drake caught up quickly.

"It's only nine. And where are you going? Let's do something. All my friends are busy."

"All your fake friends," Dave said softly. He didn't know much about the blonde, but he knew he didn't have a single friend with good intentions. Even Dave himself was planning on using him.

It was his fault for bringing up Becky.

"I don't want to do something. I just want to go home," Dave said, although this was a partial lie.

"Aw, come on, Dave," Drake whined.

"We'll go to Balthazar's tomorrow. Just…call me or something." When they got inside the car, Dave rummaged around in his wallet and found an old receipt. He plucked a pen off the top of the dashboard, then proceeded to write his cell. He shoved the receipt at Drake and leaned back against the passenger seat.

"Dave?"

He heard the car start.

"Dave? I'm talking to you." He felt Drake poke his head.

"Yes?" Dave's eyes flew open.

"Is that ex-girlfriend of yours the same one you talked about during our sleepover?"

Dave felt his face redden. He turned to face the window, and prayed Drake didn't see. "How should I know? I was drunk. Please just drive the car."

Drake mumbled something in response, but thankfully chose to silent during the rest of the drive home.


	6. Five

5.

**"_The only disability in life is a bad attitude." ~Scott Hamilton_**

"Dave," Becky said, doubling her stride to match his pace. "Can you and I talk? Please?"

Dave's mood soured in an instant. He had been having an ordinary day at NYU when _bang_, Becky steps out of a classroom and in front of him. She hadn't been planning the encounter, so while she was shocked, he hurried away.

Becky being Becky, followed.

_There's nothing to talk about,_ Dave wanted to say. But he was a bad liar, so instead, he snapped, "Yeah?"

She frowned. "I want to talk."

"Okay. I'm all ears." He was momentarily proud of the fact he didn't sound awkward anymore.

"Listen…" Her shoulders slumped. "I'm so sorry for all the nasty things I said. I'll admit, I thought some of them were true. But everything else was uncalled for. I'm grateful for you saving me back there with Abigail and Morgana and… I really am, Dave. And I was having a good time hanging out with you and just being your girlfriend. And this is all just one big mistake, right? It's just a stupid argument we had. You said things and I did too. Please, can we move on and reconcile?"

He didn't like this conversation, although Becky was doing all the talking. Was it nice being apologized to? Sure. Did he like the fact Becky wanted to get back together? Absolutely. This was the pretty, sweet girl who was nice to him in elementary school. The one who never had any bad thoughts about him.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just hug her and say yes? Was he too much of a chicken?

"Dave… Andre told me something."

He immediately opened his mouth. "What? Was it bad?"

"No, not really… He said he saw you at a bar with another guy. It looked different," she admitted, her cheeks turning a bright pink.

"Different? What does that mean, Becky?"

"Well, he said it looked like you two were in a relationship."

Dave's temper flared. "Oh? Because I was someone he never saw before? Andre is definitely not the paragon of intelligence, and I'm sure whatever he said was a lie. Ugh. Forget this, I'm going to be late for a class." He tightened his hold on his bag and continued to walk.

"Dave! Wait! C'mon." Once again, she caught up with him. "It wasn't like that, I was saying it wrong. He meant that the blonde dude was looking at you a funny way. A really…"

Understanding hit him. "Ohhhhh."

"Yeah." She blushed harder.

"So…yeah. Listen, Becky, nice chat and all, but I seriously have to get to my next class. And don't feel insulted, but I don't want to see you again for some time. Call me if you want to throw out another declaration of love."

With that, Dave walked on, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Hi, Veronica," Bennet said. "Dave's not here."

"I realized. Is he late?"

Bennet shrugged. "He and I usually come home at different times. Maybe he's on the subway right now or something." Gathering his manners, he asked, "Why don't you come on in?"

"Thank you." Veronica slid past him and settled herself on the sofa. She was still getting used to modern things. The furniture was incredibly squishy, she thought.

"Where's Balthazar?" Bennet asked, sitting down next to her. He was under the impression that the couple were relatives of Dave's.

"He's back home, getting things for his lesson with Dave," Veronica replied. "You know how tutors are."

He nodded.

"So… How did your night out go?"

Bennet sighed. "Not so good. I mean, I kind of screwed up when I got drunk. But Dave's been moving on, I guess."

"What about this associate of his?"

Bennet's eyes lit up. "Oh, I didn't mention that? Guess what: the dude is totally gay," he said eagerly. "I could just tell by the way he dressed; not to be stereotypical or anything… He and Dave hung out a few times, but Dave doesn't tell me anything."

"Really? What does he look like?"

"Eh, kind of hard to say. He has blonde spiky hair and is pretty tall. I'm sure he's older than Dave. His clothes are sorta eccentric." Bennet smirked to himself.

Veronica was curious. Dave didn't seem like the type of person to keep flamboyant company. She suspected all his friends were quiet or very smart, like him.

"I see," she said. Suddenly, something inside her head went off. "Bennet, did this man have an accent, by any chance?"

"Yeah, I think he's British. How did you know?"

"I believe Balthazar has met this young man before," Veronica murmured. "When did you say Dave was coming home again?"

**.**

**.**

**.**

Drake was having a pleasant dream. He was currently in bed with a girl; he had no idea who she was, but she was incredibly good.

He felt the bed dip, and preparing to turn on the charm, he rolled over to face her. He was stunned to see Dave, who wore a sour look on his face.

"Are you finished fantasizing about me?" he deadpanned.

When Drake woke up, he was none too pleased to learn there was no girl. He was relieved it was nothing more than a dream; what would the Prime Nerd say if he found out about this?

Drake leaned against his bed, thinking he should banish napping in the afternoon. He remembered that he and Dave were supposed to collect his ring. He slipped out of bed and hurried through the door.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Veronica, what are you doing here?" Dave asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He dropped his bag next to the sofa and dumped his jacket.

"Bennet and I were talking. Dave, we have to head to Balthazar's. And there's something we have to talk about," she said.

"Yeah, I get it, but I was gonna have a friend over…" Crap, thought Dave. What if Drake showed up?

"Later," Veronica said firmly. "Call him and reschedule."

Dave wanted to argue that he couldn't, since he didn't have Drake's number, but decided to keep his mouth closed. "Bennet, please tell him, if he shows up, that I've got tutoring with Balthazar. He'll understand."

"Sure," Bennet said, watching the two go.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_Veronica is an excellent driver_, Dave thought, _for someone who just learned how to drive._

"Dave, we have to speak about something," she said as the car stopped. "Show me your lab. I think it's going to rain soon."

Dave led her inside. She was correct. Small drops of rain plummeted around the door was shut. Balthazar was already there, inside Merlin's Circle.

"Balthazar," Veronica called. "I learned something from Bennet."

"What is it?" he asked, flexing his fingers.

"Do you recall the victims of the Parasite Spell? And the young man you told me about?"

Dave felt all the blood drain from his face. Oh no. Now Balthazar would never give Drake's ring back. He was a tad more afraid knowing how angry Balthazar could get.

"Ah, yes. They're dead by now, and I was going to get them… Didn't think Dave would have to be involved," Balthazar said, shrugging his shoulders. "So where are you going with this, Veronica?"

"I think I should go," Dave said. He attempted to sneak up the stairs, but Veronica's look kept him glued to his spot.

"Bennet told me that Dave has been seeing a friend of his. I have suspicions that it is the man that attacked you and him," she said, her eyes flickering from her love to Dave.

"Uhh…"

"What?" Balthazar's gaze turned to him. "He's alive, Dave?"

"His name is Drake Stone, Balthazar…"

"He's alive and you didn't tell me? What about Abigail Williams? Dave." He said his name very clearly, very sharply.

Dave gulped. Apprehension bloomed in the air. "Listen, Balthazar, it just happened. I was at the bar with Bennet and he suddenly popped up. He's no threat, I swear. He doesn't even have his ring. He's powerless."

Balthazar closed his eyes. "And let me guess? He wants it back."

"Well, yeah…"

"Dave, would it kill you to tell me about your friends? Is Abigail a friend too?"

He frowned. "Balthazar, she's dead. I think Drake got rid of her. He kept nagging me about his ring so we agreed to come up to you to ask for it."

"Is this a bad thing?" Veronica questioned. "From what you've told me, an illusionist is not exactly a threat."

"I doubt Horvath was threatening him to do dirty work," Balthazar murmured. "Okay, Dave. We'll put training on hold and you can get this guy. I want to see him in person."

Dave gulped.


	7. Six

6.

**"_Attraction is not a choice." ~David DeAngelo_**

Drake Stone always got what he wanted. Ever since he became an illusionist, he lived like a king. There was always someone waiting on him and he had the spoiled lifestyle. He'd had many girlfriends but never went out with any men; the feeling came so naturally when he saw Dave.

So while Drake headed to the boy's lab, he dialed his number. He recalled his ring, which was also an important issue.

"Dave?"

"He found out."

"What? Is that…bad?"

"Not sure," Dave admitted. "Get to my lab and meet Balthazar. He might consider giving your ring back. After all, you aren't a threat to anyone."

"Yeah, thanks. I'm almost there." He hung up and eventually found the passage to the lab.

The young man in front of Balthazar looked familiar. He was surprised he actually remembered his name.

"Drake Stone, is it?"

"Yeah," Dave said, nervously watching his master's face.

Balthazar wasn't sure what to make of the blonde. He and Dave were somewhat close, and from what he heard, Drake Stone only wanted to get his life back on track. Balthazar seriously doubted he would go back to helping Morganians after Horvath's little stunt.

He sighed and said, "Know what? You can have it back. As far as I'm concerned, you're not stupid enough to go back to the henchman business. What I want to know is why you're alive while Abigail isn't."

Veronica answered this question. "This is a guess more than anything, but it seems…" She walked over to Drake and lifted a glowing hand; she touched skin that displayed visible veins.

"I believe Horvath may have not completed the full spell on him," she murmured. "He has traces of magic in his body, but the rest has died out."

"It's possible. Those who aren't skilled make mistakes with the Parasite Spell, like not completing it. Horvath is no amateur," Balthazar commented. "He may have just rewarded Drake for doing his dirty work."

He saw the blonde frown. "I wouldn't say—"

"I would," Balthazar interjected. "You would've died later on, but somehow, you simply woke up. In any case, I'm not going to explore the full science of it." He rubbed his temples. "I have an apprentice to train. I'll give your ring back tomorrow. Not now; right now, we have water spells to learn."

Balthazar dismissed him and then turned to Dave, pretending nothing had happened. He just wanted his water spells done.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Drake didn't leave after his encounter with Balthazar. He stayed outside the lab and waited for Dave to finish up. He was drenched from the rain, but the drops stopped after fifteen minutes or so. He heard loud noises, then easily assumed Dave was coming. He wasn't afraid of what he was going to say; he was Drake Stone, after all. What he wanted, he got.

"What?" Dave asked as he closed the door.

"What do you mean, 'What?'" Drake turned to face him.

"Why did you wait? You're not getting your ring until tomorrow," Dave said, "so hold your horses."

"I was gonna ask you something," Drake said boldly.

"Ask away."

He stared at Dave. "Your ex? The one who is supposedly blonde? How is she?"

Dave cheeks flared. "What! Are you interested in her or anything? Eff off, Drake. It's not like she's going to rush into a relationship, especially not with you."

Drake knew he was talking about his ex, but for some reason, it felt like it was about Dave. _He's probably a prude_, thought Drake. _A prudish prude._

"You need to get your mind off her, right?"

"Yes. But alas, your friendship is not helping. Thanks for bringing her up, though. I'm outta here."

Drake watched Dave leave. He didn't bother to pursue the boy, despite his longing to. It was actually rude of Dave to refuse someone like him. Drake deserved attention, and Dave wasn't giving it to him. He bet his penthouse that Dave's roommate had more affection for him.

Aha, Drake suddenly thought. His roommate.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Hey, Dave. I got Chinese food, if you're interested." Bennet waved from the couch as his friend sauntered into the kitchen.

"Sure. How were classes?"

"Nothing new. I _did_ hook up with Sandra Dees, though, and I'm loving it," he bragged.

"Yeah, that's amazing." Some shuffling. "Hey, were there any calls on the home phone?"

"Well, what died inside of you?" Bennet asked. "Did something bad happen?"

"…Becky tried to talk to me today."

He paused. Bennet and Dave were friends, but he knew Dave didn't like to talk about the breakup. So he carefully continued, "And what happened?"

"She was nice. She apologized. Then she mentioned my friend, Drake. It was a good thing to do and all, but I screwed it up being a jerk," Dave complained from the kitchen.

"That sucks, man. I'm your pack mate, so I'll help you out."

"Cool, Bennet… I found the Chinese food. And it's mostly rice," Dave said.

"Back to Becky," Bennet said. "Do you want to get back together again?"

"Wha? Um… A part of me wants to. I mean, she was my crush back when we were kids. I always wanted her to be my girlfriend, and then it happened. It's not fair how I suddenly like her and then I don't. Life sucks."

"I hear you, Dave. Why don't you apologize and go back to dating her? There's a chance you two can make it work out again," Bennet suggested, rustling around for the TV remote.

"She's not Sandra Dees, Bennet. If Becky decides someone is hurting her, she gets rid of them." He heard his friend search for silverware. "Okay, that was wording it wrong. What I meant was, if Becky has been hurt, she righteously decides not to see them anymore."

"Hmm. So you think she won't take you back after your jerky stunt?"

"Basically." Dave returned with a plate of rice. "I can't believe all that's left is rice."

"There's other stuff, dude. Back in the fridge."

"I'm lazy today." He poked the rice with his fork. "I think me and Becky can make it work. If I apologize. Hey, what is rice made out of? I've always wondered."

"So your master plan is to apologize and she'll think it's a sweet gesture. It could work, Dave, it could work. Just make sure not to be quick about it. After all, this is your first girlfriend."

"Is not," Dave scoffed.

"What did she say about Drake?" Bennet suddenly asked.

"I forgot," Dave mumbled in response. Bennet knew immediately his friend was lying, but he didn't have the energy to confront him about it.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Drake called Dave's cell later on. To his relief, it was the roommate that picked up.

"Hello?"

"It's Drake. I'm Dave's friend."

"Oh, yeah, I remember meeting you. Dave's not here. He went out."

Drake prepared himself. "This is going to sound strange, but I want to know what happened between Dave and this ex-girlfriend. She's blonde. Does that help?"

"Oh, Becky Barnes. Yeah, she and Dave split up for some reason. It was an argument or something," he said. "Dave told me today that Becky came up to him to apologize, but he acted like a jerk. He says he might want to get back together. He considered apologizing, but I don't think it'll go through. Helpful?"

"Absolutely," Drake murmured to himself. He was overcome with glee, but he had to act fast. Who knew? Maybe Dave would get the courage to apologize to this girl. "That's all I needed to know." He asked for directions to the apartment, though.

Drake headed over to wait by the entrance. He tried to look as casual as possible. It was quite boring, being all alone without his entourage or a fan to request an autograph. He sighed, telling himself it would be worth it. He just had to wait.

And then finally, Dave arrived. He was carrying two full bags. Drake guessed he'd just come from the supermarket. He assessed Dave's expression: neutral.

"Dave!" Drake called, waving a hand.

"What are you doing here?" Dave asked, obviously confused. He paused by the entrance. "I told you, you aren't getting your ring until tomorrow. Sorry."

"It's not that."

"Not in the mood to hang out. I am utterly lazy today," Dave declared. "I think I have unfinished essays too."

"Whatever," Drake dismissed. "I have to say something."

"Okay…go ahead."

"I want you to go out with me. I'm beginning to get attracted to you and I think it would do you some good to do the same," Drake announced. "So. Do you want to go out or what?"


	8. Seven

**Disclaimer:**_ I forgot to put this in last time, but once again, I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice, and I'm not making any profit off of this story._

**Writer Ramblings: **_This chapter is short. Apparently Dave isn't the only one lazy today. Oh yeah, and there was something I wanted to ask the loyal reviewers: since you all reacted postively to the news (haha, these are Drave fans, of course they don't mind!), what would you say to the idea of a minor kidnapping? Minor, not dramatic like Criminal Minds or anything. Yes? Or no?_

* * *

><p>7.<p>

**"_Save a boyfriend for a rainy day—and another, in case it doesn't rain." ~Mae West_**

One time, while Dave was attending high school, a senior came up to him and asked him out. The senior was Andrew McCoy and Dave only saw him in the halls. So it surprised/flattered/scared him when Andrew approached him. He turned Andrew down as politely as he could; it didn't matter because Andrew soon got an early acceptance from Stanford. The thing was, Dave couldn't help feeling a bit insulted that only a guy would be interested in him, as opposed to girls his age.

That's how Dave was feeling right now.

"Is this supposed to be a cruel prank?" He drew the words out slowly.

Confusion dotted Drake's eyes. "A prank? Bloody—no, it's not a prank, you stupid git. Go out with me."

"Seriously? After you tried to kill me in a bathroom?"

"Chill out, Dave, you know I didn't mean it," Drake said, rushing to his defense. "And you're alive. I was just preparing your for future assaults."

"Love the wording, Drake," Dave snapped.

"I'm awfully attracted to you, Dave. I don't like this Becky girl and you shouldn't be with her. You broke it off anyways. Don't you want to try, at least, and see if we're a match?"

Dave shook his head, as if it would help his mixed thoughts. He was having a bad reaction to Drake's request. He couldn't believe a snobbish, conceited jerk like Drake liked him. Why would an attraction even be there if he wasn't anything like the girls he dated?

"I'm into girls, Drake…"

"Is this a religious thing?"

"I'm not particular religious and my morals have nothing against gay guys," Dave snapped at the blonde. "I just don't want to date a male; that's it."

"You don't even want to try?" Drake asked, raising both of his eyebrows. "I'm keen on using force."

"How sweet," Dave responded acidly. "But no thanks. I'm not interested. It's not a good idea to rush into dating after a big breakup."

"Is it because I'm not your type?" Drake asked. He was borderline teasing now.

"Nope. Now excuse me…" Dave slid past him to the entrance of the apartment. As he entered and traveled up the first flight of stairs, he heard Drake yell, "Is it because you think I'm fat?"

Dave rolled his eyes and continued as if nothing occurred.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Well. Drake Stone had just been rejected by the prince of nerds. He certainly hadn't been expecting that; he thought Dave would at least comply and attempt to return his affections.

It was all right, for now, if Dave wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Like he said earlier, he was keen on using force. He had various methods to use and Dave would be completely off guard.

_Maybe I am a Morganian, _Drake thought, amused.

Drake returned to his penthouse. He settled in his bedroom, specifically, at the vanity table. He looked as normal as ever. Drake dialed a friend's number, then played with his hand mirror as he waited for her to pick up.

"Drake Stone? Is that you?"

"The one and only," Drake replied. "Listen, Constance, I get you're on vacation and all, but I need a favor."

"I'm not in Rome anymore," Constance said. "I'm at the airport right now. It's good thing you called me now."

"Oh, that's perfect. It would be easier if you came back to New York. I know your job is a time-stealer."

"Yep, that's the life of a fashion designer. Now, about the favor? I don't have a lot of time."

"I've been single for quite some time," Drake mentioned with an air of arrogance. "I am in desperate need for a companion. Thing is, the bloke I'm attracted to doesn't take kindly to me."

"That's terrible," Constance sighed. She was a good person yet a total airhead when it came to celebrities. That's why she adored Drake. "You're a fun, sweet guy to be around. Why wouldn't he take up the opportunity?"

"Well…I called you because you're one of my closest mates," Drake said, ducking her question. "I have a list to go through in order to get this one to like me. I'm perfectly fine going about on my own, but I want your help."

"My help is useful," Constance agreed. "Okay, I'm gonna board the plane. No texting or calling is allowed, so when I get off, the first thing I'll do is catch up with you."

"As always," Drake said before hanging up.


	9. Eight

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice or even half of it or even a fraction of it or even a quarter of a fraction of it. I am also not making any profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings: **_I kind of hate this quote. It sounds so impossibly cheesy! But it's a good quote, so..._

* * *

><p>8.<p>

"_**Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over." ~Unknown**_

When it was time to leave NYU, reluctance filled Dave's system. Classes had done an excellent job taking his mind off his thoughts. Without the stress of school, he would be free to dwell on Drake, Becky, and the ring. He slowly gathered his things, completely aware of the threat of Becky being nearby.

As soon as he left the room, he saw that Becky was not going to be a problem for him today. She was with Andre. Her head was bowed but Dave caught her lips moving; Andre had a hand on her shoulder. _Of course_, Dave thought. _He's playing the comforting friend. What an original way to get into her pants._

It really did bother him more than it should.

Dave turned a blind eye to the pair; it was none of his business what she did in her romantic life, he supposed. Dave hurried through the halls, preparing himself for an inevitable meeting: Drake Stone.

He suspected Drake would still want his ring, even after the rejection. Dave was sure as soon as he had to meet Drake, or even speak to him on the phone, the aura would be awkward.

A bigger threat loomed in the air: what if Drake decided to blurt out his affection in front of Balthazar?

Dave's mood worsened as he walked into the courtyard. His phone chose to go off right then. He was even more sour when he saw who was calling. _Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear,_ he mused.

Dave decided on a meek "hello."

"'Ello, Dave," Drake drawled. "Today's the day, innit?"

"Yeah…it is. Yay." His attempt at sounding cheery as pathetic.

"Yay indeed." Drake paused for a moment. "I think I'll meet up with you an hour later, if that's all right. I have someone over right now."

"Okay. An hour later," he agreed. "Do you know where my apartment is?"

"Yep. Bye."

"Yeah." Dave hung up quickly. Well. That was normal. Almost as if Drake had never asked him out. He wondered if Drake got over rejection swiftly; if so, it made his life easier.

He headed back home, feeling much better than he had the whole day.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Was that him?" Constance asked, returning from the kitchen. One hand was occupied with a glass of champagne.

"That was him," Drake said, nodding. "Don't you think it's a tad too early to be drinking?"

"I'm secure. No worries." She took a small sip before seating herself next to him on the couch.

"So," Constance said. "Mr. Stutler. What's he look like?"

"He's got some curls on the top of his head; his hair is dark, by the way. His clothes are dreadfully plain, but I guess he can't help that. He's a couple of inches shorter than me—"

"That's because you wear high heeled shoes," Constance interjected. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"His voice is odd. Like it's designed to be awkward on purpose. Even when he's confident. So that's saying something."

Constance finished the last of her champagne. She placed the glass on the coffee table. "And his personality? Please don't say it's anything like yours."

"We're opposites," Drake said, smirking. "He's sort of like a nerd. Before, I bet he was an insecure bloke, but now he's nothing but a sarcastic git. I imagine it's because of his breakup with his girlfriend."

Constance's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, he just broke up with someone? I can't imagine asking him out went too well, then."

"So that's the story. We met in the men's bathroom by complete accident," Drake edited, "and then got together. Of course, asking him out a few days after I met him probably wasn't the smartest thing to do…"

"Yes," Constance said slowly, "but things always work out when it's you."

Another lie from Constance, Drake thought, internally sighing. She was an airhead for sure, but a reliable friend nonetheless. He wished she was a bit more honest with him, rather than throwing out false reassurances.

"Why did you ask him out? Attraction aside…"

"Because, Connie, I know he'd like me if he went out with me. I can really imagine it… Anyways, we did sleep together."

If Constance's eyes got any rounder, Drake was sure they'd pop right out of her head. "_Did you really?_" she demanded excitedly.

"We only slept together. There was no sex."

"Oh."

"Yes, I see you're very disappointed," he teased her. "But it's okay. Because of that little drunken encounter, I know he'd like me romantically. He's just stubborn, that's all. It's partially Becky's fault."

"Who?"

"The ex-girlfriend, Connie," Drake said. "Keep up. She and Dave had a falling out or something, and they broke up. But now he's saying that she apologized and wanted to get back together."

"Does he want to be with her?" Constance asked. She picked up her glass and glided back into the kitchen. "Gosh, this place needs cleaning. I can practically see the dust gathering."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to that, don't worry. And yes, he said he probably wanted to. I called his roommate and got all that information. He was a jerk, apparently. Hopefully, that will ward Becky off." Drake frowned. He was at school today, where Becky would undoubtedly be. Had the two had recent contact? He could've asked over the phone but Dave would snap.

"You're good at figuring things out, Drake. I'm sure he'll agree to a date sooner or later."

"That's where you come in," Drake said.

"Oh yeah?" She returned to the living room. "How do I help? I'm free all the time."

"No designing for you, eh?"

"I finished up with that show in Rome and have a million things to do in the company, but I can manage somehow. It's you, after all. If it wasn't you, I wouldn't help," Constance said.

"You're a true friend," Drake said, his smile half-mocking.

"Don't I know it." Her smile mirrored his.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Is that him?" Constance asked, practically squealing. She stared at Dave through the window.

"That's Dave Stutler. But don't stare, it's so obvious." Drake parked his car and gazed at his hand. Soon enough, his ring would be on his finger.

"I've got my hood on," Constance replied, patting the fabric of the hood. "See? So you'll go get whatever you need and then…?"

"Yep," Drake said. "Keep the car safe."

"Good luck."

Drake got out of the car and walked over to Dave. He was waiting by the entrance of his apartment, a blank expression on his face. He guessed Dave was still upset over the date thing.

"To Balthazar's we go, right?" He smiled his cocky smile.

"Yeah. Is that how we're going?" Dave craned his neck to look at the vehicle. "It looks nice."

"She's a beauty."

"Oh right. I remember. Cars are referred to as 'she.'" Drake could see Dave's tiny grin, despite him trying to hide it.

Drake guided Dave to his car. Dave looked surprised when he saw Constance in the backseat.

"This is my friend Constance Browne," Drake explained shortly. "She needs a ride somewhere. Right, Connie?" He covertly winked at her. They had rehearsed their lies quite expertly, and he was positive Dave wouldn't notice.

"Hi, Constance."

Constance tried not to giggle. "Hello. I won't bug you two. Just sitting in the backseat."

_Don't overdo it, Connie_, Drake thought wearily.

"The backseat's where's the party at," Dave joked with her. "All right, Drake, on to Balthazar's."

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Drake arrived, Balthazar was there. He was dressed in classy clothes as opposed to the old, scruffy things he usually had on. Drake didn't see the Encantus anywhere either. He was simply holding a black box.

Dave saw this as well. "So, Balthazar. Going somewhere special?"

"You're not the only one who can go on dates," Balthazar said gruffly, and Dave stiffened. Drake raised an eyebrow at this.

"Veronica and I are going to have dinner, so no training for today."

"I consider myself blessed," Dave said.

Balthazar murmured something under his breath. "Here's your ring. It's in fine condition so I bet nothing's going to go berserk when you perform. You better use this wisely, Mr. Stone."

"I swear on someone's life," Drake declared. Balthazar presented Drake with his ring. Drake glowed when he saw the familiar object.

"Don't go talking about lives now," Balthazar warned.

"So I guess we're done?" Dave asked nervously. He was playing with his hands, wringing them every few seconds.

"Yep. I don't care if I see you anymore," Balthazar said, "but I will be keeping tabs on you. If you and two are becoming friends, then go ahead and be friends. Just don't come between training." He checked his watch. "All right, kids. I have to go. Call me if there's any trouble, Dave."

"Sure."

"I'll drive you back home," Drake offered.

"Okay. Thanks."

Balthazar didn't comment. The three split. Drake led Dave back to his car. Once they were strapped in, Drake checked Constance out in the rearview mirror. She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Dave didn't say anything for a few minutes. He simply looked at trees and people from the window. He spoke only when Constance asked if she could borrow his phone. Then, he said, "Is this the wrong way?"

"What?" Drake feigned confusion.

"I think this is the wrong way," Dave repeated. He was noticing the unfamiliar surroundings.

"I'm dropping off Constance first," he explained.

Dave didn't say anything else. Constance struck up a conversation with Drake. It was a genuine topic about a funny situation that occurred while she was at Rome. Drake suspected it was just a way to make Dave less uncomfortable.

"Okay, this is where Connie gets off." Drake stopped the car. "Could you get out for a second and open the door for her? She's a real twit when it comes to opening car doors."

"True," Constance added on. "I almost broke it once."

"Okay. As long as you guys aren't planning on leaving me here," he said. He got out and opened the door for her.

Instead, Drake slid out of the car. Constance did leave the car, but she went back in and sat in the driver's seat.

"See you later, Drake," Constance said. She closed the car doors while Drake did the passenger one. With that, she drove away.

"Did she just leave us?" Dave demanded.

"Nope. She left you with me. We need to go or else our reservations will be canceled." Drake conveniently cocked his head to look at the restaurant nearby so he could miss out on Dave's expression.

"What reservations—" And then he stopped.

"What is it?" Drake asked pleasantly.

"I think I know what just happened."

"Amuse me," Drake said.

"I said I didn't want to go out, Drake. And I have a cell phone, remember?"

"You mean the one in my car?"

Dave groaned. Drake wondered how someone like Dave could be tricked so easily. Then again, it was Drake Stone doing the planning. With the additional assistance of Constance. But really, why would Dave think that he would nod to rejection?

"Connie comes back when we're done with lunch. So if you want to go home, you'll have to go through the date."

"Or I can just sit here until she shows up."

"Yes, but you'd be sitting for an hour, and I hear sitting down for a long time is incredibly boring," Drake pointed out.

Dave looked at him for a minute, then threw up his hands in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah. Fine. Let's go sit down and I'll pretend I don't hate you."

"Why would you hate me for buying you dinner?"

"I strongly _dislike_ you for not respecting my wishes," Dave murmured. "And besides. You shouldn't spend a lot of money on someone who doesn't care for a relationship. It's just stupid."

"Pfft. You'll fall in love with me for sure."

"I'm sure that's what you said to your last girlfriend."

"Touché," Drake said.


	10. Nine

9.

"_**Every time you date someone with an issue that you have to work to ignore, you're settling." ~Unknown**_

_This is a place Becky would've loved,_ Dave thought glumly. The décor was impressive, yet not too fancy. All sorts of delicious smells filled the entire room. There was light music playing. He didn't recognize the artist, but knew Becky played it on the radio weeks before.

Despite the nice place, Dave was feeling a bit uncertain about this forced date. After all, Drake was going to pay for everything. How expensive was La Belau anyways? He wrung his hands under the table.

"C'mon, Dave," Drake said teasingly. "This isn't your first date, is it?"

"No," Dave muttered, his tone sour. "Nothing like this, for sure."

The waitress arrived with the orders. The food smelled delicious. He had never seen any of these dishes before. The only thing he recognized was the salad.

"So," Drake said, picking up his fork. "How's the food?"

"I didn't even try it yet." Dave grinned, despite himself. He sampled something that might've been fish. "It's fine."

"Only fine?"

"That's what you get for kidnapping. Biased judgments on food," Dave replied. "When is Constance coming?"

"Jeez, Dave, we just got here. Don't get so worked up. Would it kill you to have a little fun?"

"Because I told you I wasn't interested and you ignored me?" Dave said, raising a brow at him. "Anyways, it's hard to relax when you're straight and with a guy."

Drake waved a hand at him, clearly not accepting the explanation. "Do with me what you did with that Becky girl."

He almost dropped his fork. "What?"

Drake smiled pleasantly at him. "You and her went out on regular dates, didn't you? What about me? I think I deserve a turn."

"You're only seeing what you want to see, Drake," Dave sighed. He set his eyes upon his glass of water. "I don't want to go out or be your boyfriend or whatever. I like girls. I want someone like Becky."

He noticed that Drake's smile disappeared almost instantly. The blonde was silent for a few minutes; he simply ate and drank as if Dave wasn't there. But then, he said, "You could like me, you know."

"How? I know I'm secure in my sexuality." Dave wondered if anyone noticed something out of place. The people here weren't giving him any odd looks; he didn't expect them to. Dave was used to seeing gay people and lesbians, but it felt strange when he was the one doing the dating.

Then again, this was an involuntary date.

_He _is_ a pretty good way of forgetting her, you know_, Dave thought to himself. It was true. He had been thinking that way earlier. Of course, if he did agree to Drake's "demands," he would be a romantic interest as opposed to an actual friend.

Dave murmured, "Maybe you're right…or something."

"Sorry, I missed that."

Dave resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Let's pretend for a moment I did agree to go out with you. What would happen then?"

"Then you'd fall in love with me. Obviously," was Drake's insightful reply.

"Mmm." Dave focused on his food.

"You definitely would," Drake muttered. In a louder voice, he continued. "And then Becky wouldn't be a problem, now would she? I dunno how your mate would react…or Balthy. Or that lady with him. What's-her-name."

"Veronica," Dave said.

"Yes, her. I don't really care what they think if we did get into a relationship. I assure you it'll be a more exciting relationship than the one you had with the human," Drake said. He used his knife to cut up the meat, but when he mentioned Becky, it changed into a stabbing motion.

"Maybe I can do that," Dave said. His head was bowed so he didn't have to see Drake's gleeful expression.

"Oh yeah?" He sounded so positively smug; like winning yet another partner was a victory.

"Maybe I could, if you weren't so promiscuous," Dave sighed. "You go through girlfriends and possibly boyfriends faster than I go through takeout."

Drake grinned, completely blissful.

"I wouldn't do that," he said, sobering up quickly. "I'm sure we could probably have a good relationship till someone ruins it. I'm sure we'll break up over an argument or something."

"That's so reassuring," Dave mumbled. "Thinking of the breakup before we even actually begin."

"Ah, so we're going to do it, right?"

"No, and please get rid of the cheekiness."

"How did you and Becky break up?" Drake asked. "It was an argument, I'm sure, but I think you were serious about her."

"She was a very good person."

"I'm not asking about that. Later, maybe. I want to know why she's out of your life. Wasn't she the one?"

"How did you know that?" Dave gasped.

"I didn't, mate. I just thought so."

"Well," Dave said, letting the word roll off his tongue, "it wasn't pretty. When she and I started dating, we had a good time. I like dating her, honestly. But then I took up extra classes and she got upset."

"Over extra classes? What a prune," Drake said, laughing.

"Stop it. It was a valid reason to get upset," Dave defended her. "She and I didn't get to see each other frequently because of training and classes, but extra ones made it worse. And she's popular…she's got a lot of friends."

"So she couldn't see you because she has more of a social life? Harsh."

"Drake, are you even listening? We got into a fight. I said some awful stuff to her." He swallowed hard.

"Like what?" Drake asked with an eagerness he shouldn't have had.

"We said mean things to one another. She left my apartment and we stopped talking after that. Then she apologized, but I blew that…"

"Yes, from what I heard, you did."

"You aren't helping…"

"I know," Drake crowed. "Was she a nice girlfriend? Good personality?"

"She was very sweet," Dave said slowly. "Understood that me being the Prime Merlinean would require lots of work. She said she was willing to reschedule dates if it interfered with training. Becky was accepting."

"Because she didn't understand it," Drake countered. "Do you think she knew what she was getting into? It's not all magic and spells. If you two were serious and tried settling down, she could get hurt. Or taken hostage by some Morganian. If she actually understood it wasn't all fun and games, she would consider the consequences of going out with you."

Dave was stunned. He didn't respond as quickly as he should've. It was true, most of the things Drake just said. If he was being truthful, Becky probably didn't understand the magnitude of magic. That she could die tomorrow or anytime else if a Morganian found out about her tie to him. But Becky had accepted what he was and knew what power he had; she was willing to stand by him.

"You don't…get it, Drake. She was…"

"What? Special? Someone you saw as a future wife? Please, Dave. I bet she was just another girl you got tangled up with. She has more of a chance with that Andre than she did with you. You two weren't made to fit," Drake said. He calmly drank a glass of water, as if his words were not harsh.

"That's biased. And unfair. You've had a ton of girls going in and out of your life. Boys too, I bet," Dave fumed, attempting to keep himself under control. He stabbed his dinner. "You've probably slept with the whole bunch and whispered sweet-nothings. But it's not like you proposed to any of them."

Drake opened his mouth to say something, but Dave cut him off. "Did you even ever love anyone like that? Or were they just good times?"

"Some of them I were serious about," Drake interjected.

"Yeah, but I don't see you with a wife."

"And I don't see you with a husband," Drake said. "I told you I really liked you. Heavens knows why, but we should at least try to do something about it. Date me and see if you're into it. If not, just break it off."

"…I don't know."

"Yes or no. I'll be better than her, you know. It's obvious I'm more interesting."

"Possibly," Dave scoffed. "But I can't just decide on one date."

"We haven't even finished!"

"Yes, but it's still a date, according to you. And even though I was forced out of a car and into a restaurant…"

Drake glared.

"I need time to think about it. When I reach my decision, I'll call you. How does that sound?" Dave asked. "Isn't this a reasonable approach?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. Fine. You get a day to decide—"

"Only a day? I'm not an illusionist, I've got college and training," Dave snapped. "I need more than a day."

"Ugh. Okay, _two_ days."

"Two?" Dave was disappointed.

"Yeah, only two."

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Constance arrived, Drake paid for the dinner and got up from his seat, apparently with the intentions of guiding Dave to his car. Dave wasn't into the idea; he jumped up as soon as he Constance and briskly walked out of the restaurant.

He and Drake got settled into their seats. He chose to sit in the back. Constance avoided eye contact with him as she whispered to Drake, "How did it go?"

"I can hear you."

"It went… Eh, I'll tell you later. Can you give Dave back his phone? And we should hurry, it's almost time for the sun to set…"

It was getting darker. Constance gave Dave his cell phone and revved up the engine. She drove fast; it worried Dave. Finally, Constance parked the car near his apartment. Dave couldn't wait to get home and relax in his comfortable bed.

"Two days, Dave!" Drake shouted as Dave exited the car.


	11. Ten

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and am not making any profit off of this fic. Why I keep forgetting to put this up, I never know._

**Writer Ramblings: **_This chapter doesn't give much progression; however, you hear about this party. And you know what happens at parties with alcohol. Of course, we've (again with the we) already done that in chapter two, but... _

* * *

><p>10.<p>

"_**Every moment of resistance to temptation is a victory." ~Frederick William Faber**_

Thursday was basically one of Dave's good days. He had woken up, oddly energetic. His classes had gone exceptionally well, especially English, which was something he was struggling with. Dave spoke with a couple of friends in the halls; April Sorenson was having a party and invited him.

He was practically whistling his way out of NYU. Dave caught a bus home. In the apartment, Dave unloaded his things and fixed dinner. He heated up leftovers and while waiting, he started on his homework.

His cell phone rung after he finished half of an essay. Dave kept his phone between his cheek and shoulder as he went to get the food. It was Drake, due to the familiar number. He decided he should title this contact later.

"Have you been thinking, Dave?" Drake asked in a light tone.

In a good mood, he answered, "Nope. I'm doing homework right now."

"You sound cheerful," Drake acknowledged.

Dave opened the microwave door and pulled out the plate. He twisted the knob then carried the food to the living room.

"Yep," he said. "That's me today. Besides the inquiry, what else do you need?"

"How was your day?"

Dave laughed. "Wow, you should've said that first. I'm fine. Classes were pretty good… Hey, what about you? You have your ring now. I'm sure that's a party."

"It's always a party. I can finally schedule more shows now. I was a little behind."

Dave picked up his fork and dug into the macaroni. "How is Constance? I imagine she's enjoying being the wingwoman?"

"Connie the wingwoman. Sounds pretty lame," Drake said. It sounded like he was smiling. "She's a fashion designer. She just got back from Rome; I believe she's got her hands full with her company today."

"Ah. Busy. I'm glad I'm an ordinary college student."

"An ordinary college student who is also a sorcerer and is dating an eligible bachelor," Drake added on.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Please. It's still day one, Drake."

"You'll say yesss," Drake sang.

"Yeah, yeah," Dave said. He polished off the remains of the macaroni and placed the plate in the sink.

"Do I have to stay away from you during these two days? Or can I come over?"

"What, my apartment? I don't think that's a good idea," Dave said slowly. "Bennet lives here, you know. He might think it's a bit odd. Let's just meet at other places."

"What do you want to do today? I have time."

"A friend of mine invited me to a party. It's tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?" Dave asked.

"A party with mere humans? Not my thing, but…interesting. I might have to go," Drake said mockingly.

"I'm sure you're used to humans," Dave said, "more so than you're used to sorcerers. So, you coming to the party or not?"

"Is it mostly your mates?"

"Yep. April invites her other friends too, so there will be some people I don't know."

"Nerds. Good. I doubt they'll know me."

"I didn't," Dave said, smiling despite himself. "Brace yourself for Depeche Mode comments."

Drake didn't respond, but Dave was certain he was glaring at something.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "Why don't you come over to my place tomorrow? Then we can go to her party."

"You want me to come over?" Dave asked hesitantly.

"What's wrong with that?"

"What are we going to do? It'll be hours at your place."

It sounded like Drake was shrugging. "Does it matter? I'll figure something out."

"Okay. Pick me up tomorrow?"

"I'll do that. Don't worry, Constance won't leave us together," Drake said, probably with a smirk.

"Good." Dave hung up, then finished his assignments. Bennet came home later, crowing about a date he scored with Sandra Dees. Dave nodded pleasantly and listened like a good pal. He and Bennet discussed Becky a bit more.

"Did you apologize to Becky yet?" he asked.

"No," Dave admitted. "Something got in the way."

"I thought this chick was the love of your life," groaned Bennet. "You've been interested her for a long time, Dave. Are you even gonna say sorry?"

"I was thinking about that," Dave said sheepishly.

"So what was that event that distracted you?" Bennet asked. He got up from the couch and poked around in the fridge. "Hey, where's the macaroni?"

"Gone," Dave announced. "I ate it."

"Thanks for nothing, Dave." With a grimace on his face, he settled for salad, and returned to the original subject. "Becky?"

"I don't think I should." He paused. "Listen, Bennet, you're my friend. I'm gonna tell you the truth. You know Drake? My friend?"

"The one dressed in weird clothes? How could I forget?" Bennet said, grinning. "What about him?"

"He was that event," Dave mumbled. He bit down on his lip.

"What."

Dave flinched at the disbelief in his tone. "He asked me out. He's bisexual. Or he's interested in taking on guys."

Bennet's draw dropped. His fork fell with a clatter. "Whoa. Really?"

"Really."

"What did you say?" he asked eagerly.

"I said I would think about it."

"How come?"

"I get you're puzzled." Dave sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. "Me too, you know? But I wasn't sure if I should say no. Because Drake's a good way of getting Becky out of my mind. He said himself I might grow to like him."

"So you're gonna think about it. Weird. I didn't know you were into guys," Bennet said.

"Ugh. I'm not. I'm just going to…"

"Experiment?" Bennet finished.

"So to speak," Dave said. "I told him I'd think about it for two days. I got invited to April's party, by the way. He and I are going to spend the day at his place, then go to the party."

"You're abandoning me," Bennet sighed dramatically. "But okay. I still don't believe it. I never knew you'd be brave enough to experiment."

"There's always a first time for something, Bennet," was his response.


	12. Eleven

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings: **_ALL RIGHT. I was having a small exchange of words with Last-Babylonian (more commonly known as a conversation). I have to tell all of the readers this: do not skip any parts. You HAVE to read word from word, if you can. If you don't, you pretty much miss jokes in the paragraphs and extra details. Thanks, I know it's not too much to ask. Enjoy this long chapter, guys! You all deserve it._

* * *

><p>11.<p>

"_**A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts" ~Proverb**_

Thanks to his guilt for neglecting his coils, Dave ended up going to his lab and ruining his good mood. Work had been dull without something to listen to; of course, he turned on the radio, just couldn't resist wondering how Becky was doing since the incident. He switched it on to her station. It was another girl speaking. Soon enough, she put on a song he had never heard before.

He shouldn't have even listened to music. It reminded him too much of Becky. A part of him wanted to reconcile, but it was so small, it was easy to ignore. He wondered how the party would play out.

He was halfway finished with the coils when Balthazar called.

"Veronica's having trouble with the oven," Balthazar said.

"Mine?"

"No. Arcana Cabana's oven."

Dave did a double take. "Since when did Arcana Cabana become equipped with working ovens? And when did you take it back?"

"Yesterday, actually. It took a while. The brothers that used to be in charge of the shop gave me a difficult time. Lucky for me, I know legal loopholes."

"They put an oven in Arcana Cabana? Why?" Dave pondered.

"I did," Balthazar said. "After dinner, Veronica and I went and spruced up the place. We're considering living there. Unless you want company?" His tone was sarcastic.

"Bennet and I are fine, thanks. Okay, so she's having trouble with the oven. How come that's a good reason to call? I have limited knowledge of ovens, Balthazar," he informed his master. He caught a loose wire and tucked it back into place. Dave's gloves were taking the worst of the damages, but they were old and torn. He needed new ones.

"Consider it a prologue to what I'm telling you. We need to schedule training better. Here's the thing: Veronica needs more time with the modern world. I'm going to need a couple of weeks to work with her," Balthazar said. He said something in a hurry. Dave thought he heard Veronica's voice.

"Weeks, huh?" Dave couldn't help but smile. Free time, all to himself.

"Don't get too excited. I only need about two or three. I'll call you when Veronica thinks she can capable of handling things on her own."

"Veronica sucked Morgana into her body. I'm sure she can handle it," Dave said. He earned himself a triumphant speech from Veronica. Balthazar seemed to then joke with her. "No canoodling on the phone, guys. Bye, Balthazar. You too, Veronica." He hung up, sure they were too busy with one another to notice.

He was a bit miffed with himself after the call, though. It was slightly embarrassing to know Balthazar trekked on for years, waiting for Veronica. He was willing to do anything for that woman. And here was Dave, his ass on the floor working on coils, not even able to bear one minute with his old crush.

"Maybe it's time for a change," he mumbled to himself. He shut off the radio playing a techno song. Bennet hadn't mentioned Sandra; what was he up to?

"Dave? What's up?" he said when he picked up.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Dave said, setting his tools aside. "Doing anything special?"

"Is that some code for sex?" Dave laughed. "Nah, I'm just watching the news. Some forty-year-old chick hijacked a teen mom's car, if you're interested."

"Teen mothers don't really hold my interest," Dave said. "And I don't think someone in their forties can be classified as a chick."

"You're killing my vibe, Dave."

"No problem." Dave pulled off his gloves and jammed them into his supply bag. "Seriously, though, want to do something?"

"We have that party tomorrow. I can meet you there. How's Drake?"

Dave grimaced. "I wouldn't know." At the last minute, he countered, "How's Sandra?"

"Eh. She's at her parents' or something. I dunno. See you at the party tomorrow. Hey, if you and Drake don't hook up or whatever, we can scope out girls for you."

"Love the offer, but no," Dave deadpanned.

"Why not? I'm sure there's some lonely, cute girl off to the side, wearing Harry Potter glasses and mentally calculating the odds of a a meteor hitting Dakota," Bennet said helpfully.

"I'm not going for any girls at the party. Besides, half of April's friends have boyfriends."

"Whatever, man. I'll see you at the party."

Dave was left with his coils and thoughts.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Ooh, Gossip Girl is on."

"Here's your glass," Dave said, handing her the wine. She beamed and accepted it. "I hate the way this wine tastes."

"It's refreshing," Constance declared. She took a large sip to prove her point. "The company has been driving me nuts. Fashion this, fashion that. And then there are the interns who like to gossip. I never though Lady Gaga would cause me this much of a headache."

"The life of a designer is a difficult one," Drake drawled. He wrinkled his nose as Constance drowned her sorrows with alcohol. "Ugh. Hate that stuff."

"Since Dave was placated, according to you, how are you going to proceed?" She set her eyes on the characters on the screen.

"A friend of his is hosting a party. Dave is gonna spend the day with me, then we'll go to the party."

"Sleepover, huh?" she said with a smirk.

"With any luck, we'll get into trouble."

"Oh, Drake."

**.**

**.**

**.**

After classes, Drake drove Dave to his penthouse. Everything looked familiar to him as he removed his thick jacket. Dave placed his textbooks on the glass coffee table while Drake slid over to the kitchen.

"I have some stuff to do, if you don't mind. Then we can do what you want," Dave said. He pulled out his writing utensils and happily embraced the homework.

"We have hours. Do you drink?"

"Once in a while. I don't want any alcohol now. There will be enough at the party, trust me," Dave chortled. Drake brought glasses of soda instead. He sat on the couch next to him. Dave didn't have much to do today, so he finished up rather quickly.

"I'm done," he announced when his things were packed up. "What now?"

"I was still wondering about the dating thing…"

"I don't know, Drake. I'm still debating the whole thing."

Something in his eyes shone. "Fine. Tell me about yourself, then."

That surprised him. "Er, what do you want to know?"

"Anything," Drake said, shrugging.

"Well…my mom used to live in New York but she moved to another state. Pennsylvania, to be specific. We visit one another from time to time. My dad is out of the picture. He and Mom divorced when I was young," Dave said. "I'm an only child. My mom hates online dating, so she hasn't remarried."

"Enough about Mrs. Stutler. I want to know about _you_."

He rubbed the nape of his neck. "It's not an interesting story. And she goes by her maiden name, Patterson, now."

"I'll tell you about myself. It's quite an exciting tale," Drake said. He dramatically paused before going on. "I grew up in London, with my mum. My dad died in a car accident, when I was three. My mum's the blonde, tall one in the family, so I reckon I got my looks from her. I went to a private school. Insurance money and Dad's will provided a lot for us, if you get my meaning."

"Ah. When does the Morganian thing kick in?"

"I'm gettin' to it," Drake said. "Mum's distant relative was a Morganian; must've gotten the magic from her line as well. He came one day, asking for some money to borrow. She gave it to him. Was pissed about it too. I wandered out of my room. He saw me, then, and offered me a magical education. I bet he knew he wasn't going to pay off the borrowed money with actual cash. Mum decided it was a good idea; she thought I could get more out of life with magic.

"I don't like to talk about him too much, Dave. He was a sodding bastard like Horvath, except probably not as fat. He was much too thin… Anyways, he dumped me back at Mum's house when I was fifteen. I had my Encantus and a crappy bit of magical knowledge. I'm a master of illusion, so I figured out how to make my money. Of course, there were tons of other illusionists, so I needed to step up my game. I saw a film with David Bowie, and the bloke was real popular with the girls."

"Let me guess," Dave cut in. "You decided to cover yourself in leather and sparkles like he did."

"Yep," Drake said with a grin. "Worked for me as well too. Girls always look at me with that special look. I made good money off of the magic. I bought a large portion of the penthouse, spent it on a ton of shit. Mum and I keep in touch. She has always wanted to manage my shows, but no dice there."

"Sounds like a wild ride," Dave said. Drake's backstory was more or less better than his. He doubted the blonde was bullied all his life, save for some criticism from the show critics. Drake was also someone who came from money, apparently, as opposed to his mother working her fingers to the bone to support them. Of course, at least he could see his dad… Not that he did.

"Yeah. What about you?"

The words broke open the floodgate. He began babbling about his magical exploits and everything that had happened to him before he and Becky broke up. It felt nice to tell someone who actually knew magic.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The party was hosted in April's apartment. It was pretty big. She shared it with two other girls and they pooled their funds to host the event. There was alcohol and food, as well as some music playing. It was off of Becky's station, Dave knew.

He was hanging out in the corner, sitting right on the couch with Drake. When they'd arrived, he spotted Bennet. The two chatted before Drake disappeared, saying he'd get them drinks. Bennet was grinning weirdly.

"Nice to see you more sexually adventurous," he'd commented, despite Dave's protests he wasn't even dating Drake.

Bennet had gone off with Sandra and a friend of hers. Dave wasn't really enjoying the party. He and Drake were commenting about every little thing that was out of place, like the old Halloween decorations (childish and inappropriate for a party nowhere near Halloween), the extra amount of guests (April had definitely invited people she hadn't known well, just for the sake of appearances), and the brown spots on some of the plastic cups (no one needed a cup, she could've placed bottles and left them there).

It was sort of fun and entertaining, until Dave saw a familiar face in the throng of people. His mood soured instantly. Drake noticed.

"What's wrong?" he asked loudly.

It was hard to hear him over the music, but he managed to yell, "My ex-girlfriend is here! Along with her new boyfriend, apparently."

The way she and Andre were holding hands was intimate. He knew for a fact as soon as he and Becky broke it off, he zoomed in on her. What a sleaze.

Becky turned her head for a moment, and caught sight of Dave. He cringed mentally. Now she was coming over. She was shouting something to Andre, and he guessed she was informing him about Dave being at the party.

She arrived in front of him. Drake stiffened.

"Hi, Dave," she said. She smelled like beer, and Dave guessed she'd had a little bit too much today. That explained why she was smiling as opposed to being upset. "Didn't know you knew April!"

"I mentioned her to you," Dave said. "She invited me to the party. How is it so far?"

"Great! Music's awesome! I'm so happy she put on the station," Becky said. She was glowing like a Christmas tree's lights. "This is Andre."

Andre smiled at him. He was holding a cup, but Dave sensed he wasn't as drunk as Becky. "Hey."

"Hi," Dave said shortly. He wanted them to go away. He didn't get why Andre would let Becky come over here. He'd had the idea that Andre didn't like him a lot.

"Whose your friend?" Becky asked. "I never saw him at NYU."

"He doesn't go to school. He's already employed," Dave said.

"Oh…" Dave rolled his eyes. She was so impressive once drunk.

"Okay, see you later," Andre said. He pulled Becky away and led her through the group of people.

"Well. She seems charming."

"No one's charming when drunk," Dave said.

"Touché."

"That's like the third time you said that."

"Yeah…"

**.**

**.**

**.**

"That party sucked," Drake declared as they arrived at the door of his penthouse. Half of the people were already asleep. Dave stared at the floor, nodding.

"Cat got your tongue?" Drake asked.

"Sorry for the crappy party. It used to be fun, when Bennet and I went to parties."

"Whatever. It's not your fault the party was dumb. I should take you to the celebrity parties. _Those_ are fun."

"I can imagine."

The two were quiet for a moment. The only sound was Drake pushing the key into the doorknob. Dave didn't know why, but small things had been building up inside of him ever since Drake asked him out. The anger that he wasn't good enough for a girl to ask out, the fact he wasted all his precious moments with Becky rather than someone he loved, the fact she didn't even _remember_ what he did for her was inside of his head and just waiting to be blown up. That's what happened. Dave simply blew up tonight, right in the penthouse hallway.

Before he knew what he was actually doing, Dave launched himself at Drake. The blonde was stunned; a curse was lodged in his throat. But when Dave pressed his lips to Drake's, he reacted rather differently.

Drake's arm reached back for the knob. He fumbled with it, occupied with putting his tongue into Dave's mouth. He finally opened the door. The two of them tumbled in. Drake's arm was on the small of Dave's back, so Drake ended up slamming into the wall with Dave in front of him.

Dave felt Drake rip of his tongue out of his mouth. He blinked. His eyes were on the hard wooden floor, sweat decorating the back of his neck. He didn't understand why he wasn't thinking clearly—

"You're drunk, Dave. You're bloody drunk and you don't even know it."

He was harshly yanked into Drake's bedroom by the arm. He wanted to defend his state of mind, but gibberish tumbled from his mouth.

Drake pushed him to the bed and was suddenly on top of him. He was removing Dave's jacket, but Dave knew he was only doing it to get him to sleep comfortably.

"No!" he screamed, almost like a child.

"Damn, you reek of alcohol." Drake threw his jacket on the floor. "Take your shoes off, then go to sleep."

Dave's eyes widened in panic. He grabbed Drake by his shoulders and struggled to pull him closer. The blonde allowed him to. He was so close their noses met. Dave laughed for no reason. Drake winced.

"Let's screw," he whispered.

"Let's _not_ and say we did." Drake untied the laces of his shoes and pulled them off. Dave was pleased when he got rid of the jeans too, but Drake shook his head and said, "No."

He mumbled something incoherent.

"You won't like it so much after waking up in the morning," Drake said sharply. "Be quiet and go to bed. If you want to have sex, we'll do that after we get married."

"So propose to me now and let's do it," he whined.

"And everyone thinks I'm the immature one."

He said something else, but once again, the words were slurred.

"Okay, one more, but that's it." Drake gave Dave a quick kiss on the lips, then left him as he blacked out.


	13. Twelve

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings: **_I apologize for forgetting Tank. Some authors tend to do that, like me. He was such a small part of the film, I totally left him out of the story. So I typed up a trivial excuse to explain away his absence._

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><p>12.<p>

"_**A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." ~Ingrid Bergman**_

Golden sunlight spilled through the large glass window and darkened Dave's skin. He was content with just lying on the cold blankets. Dave knew something had occurred last night, but he only caught bits of the memory. Eventually, a crisp scent rolled in. Dave slid off the bed and left the bedroom, following the scent. Now he actually knew Drake was home.

The scent brought him to the kitchen. Drake was standing at the oven, his back turned. Dave saw the table was set with two plates and glasses, as well as utensils. The breakfast looked like it was well prepared.

"I didn't know you had culinary skills," Dave said tentatively.

Drake turned around casually. The action didn't surprise him. After all, he had been quite confident when they first got drunk. Despite the hangover, Dave recalled Drake rejecting him last night.

"I'm a man of many talents," he said. "Sit down and eat. You look horrible."

"Do I?" Dave grabbed a chair and seated himself. Drake took a teapot from the oven, turned off the heat, and sat down as well.

"Ah, the weekend," Drake said as he poured tea into a glass. "I'm glad it's Saturday. Wouldn't want you waking up late on a school day, somebody would probably kill me."

"My professors."

"What are we doing today?" asked Drake. He pushed the glass towards Dave.

"For me?"

"I don't like tea that much. I made it for you because it might be good for hangovers. I have no idea." He went over to the fridge and pulled out a small clear bottle. Dave could see it was a light pink drink.

Worriedly, he said, "Should you be drinking so early in the morning?"

Drake scoffed. "Don't worry about my alcohol tolerance. And it's not liquor, it's flavored water."

"Oh."

"Do you remember what happened last night?" Drake questioned. He finished pouring the pink water into his glass, then set it next to his plate.

"Bits and pieces." Dave picked up his fork and begun to eat. This way he could keep his eyes on the food, rather than on Drake.

"Specifically? C'mon, Dave, don't skirt around the issue. I'm not mad, you know."

Dave sighed. "Thanks. I'm sorry for what I did. I don't even recall half of it. I do remember being really…pissed because of Becky at the party. It was a bunch of stuff that made me, y'know, kiss…you." He blushed after he stopped talking. He stabbed his scrambled eggs.

"Don't you mean attack?" Drake taunted. "It's okay, though, because you're cute when you're tipsy."

"Mmm," Dave mumbled in response.

"What else do you remember?"

"You and I making out. You took me to your bedroom, pushed me on the bed, but you tried making me comfortable."

"You were pissed about it," Drake said, chuckling. "You kept saying these funny things."

"Oh yeah, I said stuff," Dave told him. He suddenly looked up. "My speech was slurred, so much _I_ couldn't even decipher what I said. Mind filling me in?"

Drake chuckled. "I don't mind at all. After I removed your jeans, you said, 'No, no, I'll like it.'"

Dave clenched his teeth. "That's it?"

"You asked for another kiss."

"Oh yeah. You kissed me, didn't you?" Dave asked. His face was utterly pink.

"Duh." He wore an unkind smirk on his face.

The two sat in silence. Dave could hear the chirp of birds outside and sounds of traffic. After finishing breakfast, Dave offered to clear the silverware and wash the dishes, but Drake shooed him away.

"Go sleep it off," he'd said. "Later, we're going out."

He wondered where Drake would take him. Probably some place fancy, like a restaurant or maybe a bistro. He reached the door, but paused when he realized something.

"Drake, today is Saturday," he said, his brows knitting together.

"Yes, that is painfully obvious." Drake rolled up his sleeves and began to run the water over the dishes. "Are you feeling all right?"

"We agreed on two days for debate," Dave reminded him. "It's Saturday."

Drake was quiet for a minute. He then continued scrubbing, and said, "It's okay. There doesn't need to be a time limit."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Dave suddenly demanded.

"What do you mean?"

"You made me breakfast, you're letting me sleep in your very expensive room, and you didn't get mad at me for acting really promiscuous last night," Dave rattled off his offenses. "You're acting differently."

"Am I?" Drake asked. "I think that hangover has messed up your head, Dave. I made breakfast for the _two_ of us. You're sleeping in my room because there's a bed there. This wasn't a one-night stand, Dave, I thought you got the hint you were staying over. And lastly, it's not your fault you slip into slutty-mode when you get drunk."

"But I kissed you. Without warning!" Dave wailed.

"So what's wrong with that, hmm? I told you I liked you very much. Why would I be upset about a kiss?"

"I don't like these rhetorical questions," Dave grumbled.

Drake turned around and smiled at him. "Go sleep. I'll wake you up when it's time to go. Stop worrying so much."

"If I'm staying over, can I use the bathroom? I really need a shower."

"Yeah, go ahead."

Dave didn't have much to think about when he got to the bathroom. Drake had cleared pretty much everything. Dave didn't feel so bad about it all, especially the kiss they had shared last night. He showered, feeling much better when he was done. When he entered Drake's bedroom, there was a badly folded pile of clothes on his bed.

"Are you done?" Drake called from the kitchen.

"Yeah!"

"Connie dropped by while you were in the bathroom. She left you some stuff from her old line. We'll get your clothes later," Drake said.

"Did I tell you that Balthazar is giving me a three week vacation?"

"No, you conveniently left that out yesterday," Drake shouted back.

Dave finished putting on the clothes. They were normal and nothing like Drake's attire. He came back into the kitchen and informed Drake of Veronica, as well as how she was Balthazar's lover. He left the word out, using "girlfriend" instead.

"She sounds old," he commented.

"She's thirty," Dave said.

"Old," Drake dismissed. "I'll call you when we have to leave."

**.**

**.**

**.**

They went to the library, of all places. Arguably, there were benefits to going to the library. Of course, who would check for Drake here? But when they arrived at the entrance, Drake laughed at his logic and said, "No, we're not gonna have a date here. I just wanted to make a quick stop."

Dave followed Drake up to the second level, where the young adult books where stored, along with several other genres. There were self-help and language books. Dave didn't think Drake needed anything here.

"What are you looking for?" asked Dave. "You don't look like the type to read."

"Only the papers," Drake said. "I hate books. Bore me to death, they do."

"So what are you taking out?"

"Just something for my assistant's daughter. She needs help with her studies, so I'll check out books for her."

Dave looked at him incredulously. "That's out of character."

"Okay, so I live closer to the library than she does. And my assistant begged me. Her daughter sucks at school, Dave."

Drake picked out three books, then told Dave to wait outside. He decided to watch the car while Drake checked out his books. When he came back, he shoved the books in the passenger seat.

"Backseat for you," he said.

"What a date," Dave replied.

While Drake was driving, he informed Dave that he wanted to take him to the apartment first, to get his things. Dave agreed. They arrived at his place and Bennet let him in. He looked positively fascinated when Dave quickly told him about Drake. Dave grabbed a suitcase and tossed some clothes and personal items inside. While packing, he patted Tank, who had been in the clinic for a while. He finished packing up his toiletries and met Drake in the car.

He eventually came to a stop at a café. It looked very casual and Dave didn't see so many people inside, which meant privacy. There were square tables lined up. Crisp leaves and portraits of people in the business covered the walls. It had a homey feel to it.

After Drake ordered their food, Dave asked, "How come I've never seen these places before?"

"Because I go to them," he said, grinning.

"What happened to your shows?"

"I'm taking a break. You have to remind me to check my e-mail later on. I know my assistant's gonna beat down my door wonderin' when we can begin rehearsing," Drake said. His expression was that of an unwilling one.

"I was under the impression you liked being an illusionist," Dave said, laughing at his face.

"I love it. Money, fame… Yeah, the whole bit. But I'm dating someone now, I don't have too much time to focus on my job."

"Really? Who is it?"

Drake rolled his eyes at the response. Their food soon came, consisting of vegetables and chicken. It was different than the restaurant course. Dave thought of the dates he'd had with Becky. They usually went out for coffee, desserts, and Chinese food. It was nothing like this.

"Are you paying for this again?" Dave asked sourly.

"Yes, happily. I'm practically wealthy."

Dave made a jab, and soon enough, the two launched a conversation about his shows. Dave enjoyed talking to Drake, especially about subjects that weren't about him. Drake had an exciting, interesting life, he had to admit. It was also nice to know Drake paid attention to the things he said.

Dinner was finished and then the chatter. Dave was tired at that point and was looking forward to his own clothes, relaxing, at Drake's place. He drove them back, where Dave reminded him about his e-mail.

While Drake checked his inbox, Dave sat on the couch and called Bennet. He had forgotten all about Tank. He'd placed him in a clinic for a problem with his stomach, and the breakup occurred days later.

"Can you put Tank on?" he asked Bennet. "I've been neglecting him."

"He's taking a nap," Bennet answered.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks for watching him, by the way."

"Sure. Hey, how's…"

"Fine, fine," Dave said quickly. He didn't want Drake to hear. "Okay, Bennet, gotta go."

His friend laughed and hung up.

Drake sat next to him on the couch. To avoid any awkwardness, Dave suggested they watch something together. Drake liked the idea. He put on a movie. Dave felt comfortable with the film, since there were no commercials playing.

When it ended, Dave and Drake stripped down to go to bed. They exchanged a knowing look as they got into bed.

"I think you should get another bed," Dave joked, turning to face him.

"How come? I think this is a good arrangement," Drake replied, crossing his arms under his head.

"Please. I can sleep on the couch, you know."

"That makes Drake sad."

"If you let me sleep on the couch, I'll let you have unlimited access to the word touché."

"Sounds like a compromise," Drake said slowly.

The last kiss they'd shared had occurred due to alcohol. This time, it was Drake who kissed him. It lasted less than a second.

"Drake," gasped Dave. "Why would you do that?"

"We're sleeping in my bed, Dave. We already kissed. We almost had sex. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

Something clicked in his head. Dave pulled the blankets up to his torso and pushed himself closer to Drake. Their noses were practically touching.

"I'm tired."

"I'm not" was all Drake said. He came a bit closer. His lips brushed Dave's and the two just lay there, listening to the beating of each other's hearts. Half an hour later, sleep claimed the both of them.


	14. Thirteen

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings: **_SilverEars and I were exchanging words and we suddenly got this idea. It's a Drave idea, a "what if?" route. If you're interested in wondering about this idea, go ahead and PM me about it. _

* * *

><p>13.<p>

"_**A slight touch of friendly malice and amusement towards those we love keeps our affections for them from turning flat." ~Logan Pearsall Smith**_

At six o'clock, Drake got out of bed and sauntered into the bathroom. Dave woke up when the water started running. He yawned, checked the time, and adjusted his position in the bed. He listed the events of Saturday in his head. He'd spent the day at Drake's, but was it time to go home now? It didn't feel like it.

"What are we gonna do now?" Dave asked when Drake returned.

"What do you mean?"

"We're…kind of dating."

Drake chuckled. "We _are_ dating, git."

Dave slipped out of the bed and started putting on his clothes. He pat his suitcase and said, "I'm spending a good amount of time with you. Especially at the penthouse."

"I can go to your place," Drake said.

"I know, but Bennet shares it with me. It'll be so awkward with the three of us."

"Well," Drake said, clucking his tongue. "Imagine that. Not being good enough for a rented apartment."

"I thought you liked being at the penthouse."

"Yeah, fine, logic. I have to start another show; today's rehearsal." Drake finished changing into his usual attire and began searching for his cell phone.

"Oh. Am I supposed to come along?" asked Dave. He sat on the bed and watched Drake look around.

"Do you want to?"

"I dunno. I guess." He shrugged his shoulders due to the lack of an answer.

Drake finally found his phone. He placed it in his pocket and started towards the kitchen. He gestured for Dave to come along. When there, Drake quickly worked on making himself a cup of coffee. Drake rejected his offer of help.

"You'd probably serve as a distraction," he pondered. "You should stay here. Connie can provide you lovely company."

"She doesn't have to change her schedule for me. And I could do stuff while you're gone."

"All right. See you hours later."

Drake checked the time on his phone, and then, with coffee in hand, he walked towards the door. Dave wondered if they should've kissed as a way of saying goodbye, but dismissed the idea. It was too hokey.

Dave left the penthouse fifteen minutes after Drake's departure. He stopped by his apartment and chatted with Bennet about Tank's health. He pet the dog's head affectionately before leaving. He wandered the streets aimlessly. Eventually Dave bought a coffee.

He ended up at Becky's radio station. He had long forgotten the girl's work hours, but here she was, with Andre and some other friends. He felt a slight wave of sadness. Dave turned away before any of them could see him. He sipped his coffee and walked to the library, pretending to be interested in books rather than Becky Barnes.

Two hours later, he was officially bored. Dave left the library and came back to the penthouse. He sat on the couch, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. Drake arrived ten minutes later. He looked a bit disheveled, but fine nonetheless. A pleased expression was on his face.

"Did you spend all day in here?" he asked as he entered the bathroom.

"No!" Dave yelled back. "I walked all over New York!"

"I'm sure that was an adventure." The sound of water running drowned out Dave's loud snort. Dave waited for Drake to finish showering. After the blonde came back to the living room with clothes on, he asked timidly, "How was rehearsal?"

"Fine. Dull. Okay. The show is going to be in New York, thankfully. It'll be nice not to travel."

"You have performances in other places, huh?"

"Of course. You can't restrict perfection to just one country, Dave." He shook his half-dry hair. Drops of water landed on Dave's face.

"Perfection. If _that's_ what you're calling it," Dave said. He bit down on his lip before saying what he really wanted to say. "I had nothing to do all day. I came back because I thought you might want to try something."

"College studies are certainly wonderful, but I have no interest indulging in them," Drake replied.

Dave let out a frustrated sigh. "No; I thought my tone implicated—"

"What?"

Dave locked eyes with the blonde. Drake stared back at him, baffled. Then, thankfully, finally, it clicked. Drake took a step back and muttered an understanding, "Ohhh…"

"Now he gets it."

"Yep. He gets it, and he's surprised." Seriously, he added, "Why this all of a sudden? Aren't you a prude?"

"Becky and I didn't do anything, you know. I'm…"

"I know the word."

Silence. Dave regretted even bringing out the subject. Wasn't it too soon anyways? He turned his head and was about to tell Drake to forget about it. To his surprise, Drake silently gestured for Dave to come with him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"'Kay." Dave followed Drake into his bedroom. The two slowly stripped, but with their backs turned. Dave had never had a problem with his body, but he was curious to see if Drake was fit. He stopped at his boxers and said, "I'm ready." He saw Drake toying with the waistband of his underwear.

"C'mon, Dave, really?"

"This is my first time," Dave said with bright red cheeks. "Leave me alone, okay?"

Drake chuckled. He took Dave's hand and brought him to the bed. Dave sat on it, sort of dubious. "Is this safe?" he asked.

"Sure. I don't have any diseases on me," Drake said with a smirk. "I'll tell you right away, I'm always on top."

"I assessed," he mumbled. "Even with girls?"

"Sometimes. I've met a few girls who wanted to try being top, so I let them, from time to time," he admitted. "So. Do you want to do this with lubrication or…?"

Dave winced at the word. "I can't believe this. You'd think someone dating a dude would be more confident."

Drake laughed and shook his head. "Your answer?"

"Um, what's it like with lube?"

"Same, I bet. It hurts less for the bottoms, I've been told."

"It's going to _hurt?_"

"Knock off the naivety," Drake said. "Of course it's gonna hurt the first time."

Dave groaned. This stuff was out of his league. He had no idea how to proceed, and was a tad grateful Drake knew much about relations. He reluctantly settled for the lubrication, then turned around on the bed. He was slightly embarrassed when Drake tugged down his boxers. He was sure the blonde was already naked.

"Is the window closed?" he hissed under his breath.

"Closed and curtained."

Those were his last words. Dave listened to Drake's light breathing before they began.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Becky's session ended, she stretched like a cat. She yawned lazily; she loved the radio station, but even she had her limits. Becky couldn't wait to go home and have some hot chocolate. She said goodbye to her friends and Andre. He smiled at her warmly. Butterflies filled her stomach, but they were awfully small.

She usually thought of Dave when she was with Andre. He comforted her when the couple broke up; she didn't want sympathy. She wanted to get her romantic life in order and make sure she got Dave back. He was a sweet person. Look at what he'd done for her.

Becky informed Andre of all these great favors Dave did for her, but he struck them down. "Just because he's done you favors, doesn't mean you have to date him in return," he'd said.

Becky was torn. She liked Dave, he was a good guy. She wasn't sure if she wanted him as a boyfriend or a friend, though. It was also true that she didn't owe Dave. Becky knew that Merlineans had to do those sort of things. Andre did not provide stability.

When they went on dates, Becky compared them to hers with Dave. When Andre held her hand or hugged her, she wondered what Dave was doing. She'd seen him with a blonde young man. The two looked like close pals; Andre noticed and told her about his encounter with the pair.

Becky sort of wanted to get back together with Dave. But she was still dealing with her feelings. Also, there was the blonde guy. Not only that, she was a huge jerk for even dating Andre and thinking about breaking up with him. No doubt, Becky Barnes's romantic relationships were a mess.

It bothered her, surprised her, that Dave was doing so well. Or so it looked like.

She pushed away the thoughts while she walked home. She lived by herself and enjoyed the silence. Becky was even more grateful for the peace when she and Dave broke up. She had her hot chocolate and watched TV. Maybe tomorrow she could find the courage to face him.


	15. Fourteen

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not profiting off this fic in any way._

**Writer Ramblings: **_Okay. That scene in the last chapter was them having sex, I just didn't write the sex part. Why? Because:_

_1. As far as I know, writing about gays, lesbians, or bisexuals isn't religiously wrong. I'm not exactly sure, but my religion does not allow that sort of thing. This complicated writing a sex scene._

_2. I like slash. I just don't like sex scenes in general. I get really creeped out and the word "genitals" make me feel ill. So of course, I'm not capable of writing sex scenes._

_I'm sorry for those who were upset by this. Also, sorry if you didn't know they had sex. I thought it was clear from the sentence before Becky's passage._

* * *

><p>14.<p>

"_**The less routine the more life." ~Amos Bronson Alcott**_

"My ass is sore."

"Mmm. That's nice," Drake said, casually sipping his coffee.

"Nice. Right." Dave snorted. Despite his tone, he happily dug into his pasta. It was around four o'clock and drizzling. As soon he was dismissed from his last class, he hurried down the street where Drake's car was parked. They spent some time in the bedroom, but then Dave complained about hunger and homework.

"How's Balthy?"

"Eh. He and Veronica are living it up. I assume they're busy having fun as opposed to actually learning about the modern world…"

Drake finished his coffee and placed it on the table. "Run into Becky?"

Dave groaned. "C'mon."

"I'm curious. I would like to meet her," he admitted to him.

"To answer your question, I didn't see her around. Andre's occupying her, I'm sure," sighed Dave.

"We should do something couple-esque."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Figure something out. Aren't you the smart one?"

"Or so they say," Dave murmured.

They wound up in Drake's bedroom after Dave finished eating. They didn't fool around as much as Drake wanted because he was too full from the large portion of pasta, and just plain tired.

"Already?"

"I'm _exhausted_," Dave said firmly.

Drake sighed. He pulled the blanket up to their torsos and sunk back into the pillows. "Well. Have it your way."

"It's not my fault; it's not like you and your partners spent the whole day doing it, right?" Dave asked. With a pregnant pause, he added, "Don't answer that."

He got a laugh in return.

"What did you and your partners do?" he said curiously. "I'm sure the glamorous Drake Stone had lots of time to spend."

"I reckon this is the first time you called me glamorous," Drake said. His tone indicated he wasn't pleased with the fact.

"Just answer it."

"Kissing. Having sex. Going to fancy restaurants and drinking wine. I brought some of them on my shows. I remember I had this girlfriend, Bonnie, and she loved France. Anything to do with the country," Drake said, chuckling at the memory. "So one day, I surprised her with airport tickets to Paris. My show was being scheduled there. Bonnie an' I spent hours checking out the Musée de Cluny."

"Becky and I went to Paris," Dave said.

"Yeah? Didn't think you were the romantic type."

"Enough jabs at my romantic planning," Dave said. "And yes, we did. After Morgana died, I used a steel eagle to land us there for breakfast. It was quite amazing."

Drake's eyebrows knitted together. "After she died? You didn't tell me that."

"I must've forgotten. It was stupid, anyways," Dave admitted swiftly. "Poor planning, but the breakfast was nice."

"How the hell did you learn to land a steel eagle?"

"I didn't."

Drake broke into a smile. "I bet Becky liked that."

"I don't keep track of anyone's reactions," Dave responded. He knew Drake was probably thinking of Becky's terrified expression, although she hadn't been the least bit scared of flying with him. "I'm afraid of flying, you know."

"Hmm?"

"I grimace at the thought of going up in air," Dave said.

"Well, dammit, that pretty much cancels our plans of honeymooning in Paris!" Drake exclaimed, mocking frustration.

"Honeymooning. As if."

"It's possible…"

Dave placed his head on the pillows and turned his back to Drake. "I'm gonna sleep a while. Wake me up if anything happens."

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Dave woke up, it was a quarter to five. He was feeling well-rested and ready to get out of bed. He turned around to see the space next to him was empty. He didn't hear anything, so Dave assumed he was gone. Sure enough, when he checked his cell phone, he saw he'd received a text from Drake.

"Going to buy groceries, my ass," he mumbled to himself. He'd seen plenty of food in the fridge. _I wonder what he's really getting._

**.**

**.**

**.**

It wasn't in Drake's nature to pry. He didn't stick his nose in anyone's business, simply because he knew his life was much more interesting. He was a successful illusionist, after all. He couldn't spend time worrying about other people. But Drake _did_ worry about competition or those intent on ruining the name he had created for himself.

It was a pretty good reason to be at the radio station. A human might've found the prospect of someone altering their appearance just to get close to an ex odd, even borderline stalker-like. However, it was something any magical being could do. Drake bet Horvath used an illusion once or twice to get the goods on Veronica.

Drake walked into the radio station. He saw Becky Barnes just a few feet away, but before he could take a further step, he was stopped by a man. Drake recognized him as Andre.

"Excuse me—"

Becky must've been an idiot if she was dating _him._ The bloke was practically drooling once he caught sight of Drake's disguise. He was glad he knew female illusions. Who'd thought Andre liked brunettes?

"Hi," Drake said. The girl he was now had a high-pitched voice. It gave him a headache. "I'm looking for someone."

"Oh. You a friend of one of the girls here?"

"Not really," he admitted. "But I'm familiar with Becky Barnes."

Andre perked up. "Becky! She's right over there. Go ahead."

_That was easy,_ Drake thought. He moved on to Becky. She saw him coming and waved away her friend. After sealing the distance between them, Drake smiled and said, "Becky Barnes?"

"That's me," she said. "How can I help you? Are you looking for the people above us?"

Having no idea what the hell she was talking about, Drake continued, "Oh no, I was looking for you. Got a minute?"

"Sure," she replied, a tad stunned. "Can I ask how you know me?"

"I'm a friend of Dave Stutler," he said carefully, watching her expression. "I've been looking for him. Have you seen him around?"

Concern flitted across her face. "I saw him at a party on Friday. Why? He hasn't been picking up his phone or anything?" Drake tried not to frown. She was much more interested than an ex should be.

Andre appeared. "Yeah, he was at the party. But I saw him leave NYU and head for someone's car. It was a friend, I'm sure. Is this serious? You should get to the police."

"No, I believe he's not in any trouble. I was just wondering if anyone has seen him."

"Okay," Becky said. She still appeared alarmed. "If you need any other information, feel free to come back." She gave Drake the schedule. He nodded curtly and then left. After getting in his car, he changed back to his normal self. He was slightly ticked off; why would Becky care? Hadn't the two broken up?

No matter. He knew Dave wasn't talking to her anymore. Neither was Becky, apparently. Drake drove to the supermarket and purchased Danish chocolate, along with a box of tea. He didn't doubt the credibility of his story. After all, Drake was an expert liar. Dave would believe whatever he would say.

When he arrived at the penthouse, Dave was sitting in the living room with the TV on. He smiled when he saw Drake. The blonde forget all about Becky, then. He dumped the box of chocolate on Dave's lap.

"What's this?"

"Danish chocolate. Enjoy."

"You didn't have to spend your money on me," Dave sighed. "Especially on chocolate."

"I bought tea stuff for me," he added.

"I should take you out on dates too. I should get you things too, y'know," Dave said, unwrapping the box. He and Drake chewed on the chocolate for some time, watching a stupid American sitcom.

"I like taking you out," Drake said suddenly. "I don't enjoy it the other way around."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Really?"

"The places you'd choose would probably be tacky," he declared.

"That is not fair. Couples have to be _fair._"

"So pay me back in sex," Drake said.

Dave slugged him on the shoulder. Drake laughed at the pitiful attempt. He took hold of Dave's wrist and tugged him into his bedroom. Dave came along willingly, but there was a look of slight reluctance on his face. Drake reckoned it was the fact anal wasn't Dave's favorite type of relations. Drake wondered if he would enjoy lovemaking with a woman. It seemed to make more sense.

"It's not that," Dave began as they undressed, "I don't like anal. It just hurts."

"I wouldn't know," Drake teased him.

"I heard it stops hurting after a while."

"Tis the truth."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Balthazar is gonna be mad," Dave mumbled to Drake.

"I guess so." Drake knew so. Balthazar would figure out about their relationship sooner or later. Three weeks wouldn't hold him off for long. Drake would be flayed alive if Balthazar learned they were having sex, let alone dating.

"Maybe we should keep it to ourselves…?"

"Absolutely not," Drake said firmly. "You're a terrible liar. You won't be able to dodge his questions."

"Ugh. I don't wanna talk to him about this."

"What about your mum?"

Dave gritted his teeth.

"Don't be a baby. We've got loads of time before we need to make any announcements," said Drake. "Besides, I don't care what Balthazar thinks."

Dave beamed.

"It's not like I'm the one training with him," Drake said with a smirk. Dave groaned and tossed a pillow on top of his head.


	16. Fifteen

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any money or profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings: **_I got this OneRepublic song off YouTube. It was a fan video of Drake and this song was playing. I've been in love ever since! I thought it would (especially these selected lyrics!) fit well with this chapter._

* * *

><p>15.<p>

"_**Oh my, feels just like I don't try/ Looks so good I might die/ All I know is everybody loves me." ~OneRepublic**_

Dave's relationship with Drake was one of a regular couple (simply with magic included), but soon enough, that changed into an outrageously stable one. After completing classes at NYU, Drake would pick up him and take him to his penthouse. Dave would always finish homework quickly just so he could spend time with Drake; the two had a lot to talk about and were commenting on one thing or another. Dates weren't frequent thanks to the press. Gossip magazines were beginning to wonder where Drake Stone had gone, and Dave swore he'd seen some floating around a restaurant they'd recently dined at. But admittedly, life was good for Dave. Period.

Becky Barnes was somewhat out of his life. Romantically, she disappeared, but he couldn't avoid the girl at NYU. Dave looked away when he passed her in the halls, attempted to seat himself as far as possible from her in their physics class. Sometimes Dave saw her with Andre Dunlap. That bothered him for the simple fact he disliked Andre, although he hadn't done anything antagonistic. Dave saw them arguing in the halls once. Maybe it was because Andre seemed to be interested in different girls; he didn't believe himself to be exclusive with Becky.

Dave resumed training with Balthazar. His master didn't notice anything suspicious. If he asked about his life, Dave would comment about classes or hanging around with his friends. He didn't say anything about Becky, although once Veronica pulled him aside and expressed her concerns. Dave thanked her for wondering, but he assured her he was fine. "Just dandy," he'd said. Veronica looked a little convinced.

And then one day, someone rang the bell to the door. Dave expected Bennet or Drake, but to his intense surprise, it was Becky. She wore a guarded expression on her face. Dave thought she looked very pretty in her black coat and blue shirt. _Ah. The thoughts of a bisexual,_ he mused to himself.

"Dave," she said tentatively. "Please. Can I come in?"

"Sure you can" was his reply. He was stunned by the words. He had nothing against Becky anymore, but he recalled how upset he'd been when they broke up. Dave welcomed her inside and offered her coffee. She thanked him, and got down to business relatively quick.

"Listen, Dave," Becky began. "I am sorry for the breakup. We said nasty things to one another. I'm just going to say I'm not here to complain about the split."

"That's a relief," joked Dave. He met her eyes though, and didn't see much humor in them. Man, was this serious.

"I came over because I wanted to reconcile with you. I like you, Dave, and maybe we could've been together romantically. We tried that, let a stupid argument get in our way, and then parted. I guess it's for the best," Becky said. She took a moment to sip her coffee.

"Reconcile?"

"Yes," she said.

"It sounds good," Dave told her. He meant it.

She cracked a smile. "I honestly wanted to stop seeing you after that incident in the halls, but I realized I still had some feelings for you. Like I said before, this is not about being boyfriend and girlfriend again. I…I really want to be friends."

_Friends._ He could actually hang out with her again, be on better terms with her. Dave already liked the sound of it. "Perfect," he told her. "Friends. Great."

"We can do that, right?"

"Definitely," Dave said. "I missed you, Becky. Do you know how nice it'll be to speak with you?"

"I know." She chuckled. "I hated having to see you in the halls because I knew you were avoiding me."

Guilt blossomed in his stomach. "I'm sorry," Dave said. "It was Andre. I didn't like you being with him. It made me upset. Pretty irrational, huh?"

"No. I didn't like being with him either. We're better off as pals. Andre and I got into a fight about another girl. I saw him with her, and even though we were just testing the waters, I started a fight. I didn't even know her name," Becky admitted. "I was having a bad day. Y'know, even when I was with Andre, I thought about you."

"Wow. I guess I _am_ boyfriend material."

Becky laughed at his tone. "You're a good guy, Dave."

"And you are a sweet girl," Dave said in return. "Thanks for coming over, Becky. It's nice this way. I'd rather be friends than nothing at all."

"Me too," Becky agreed. She shifted in her seat. "So. How have classes been? Still the physics genius, or has dating usurped your studies?"

"I'm still the ordinary student with magical powers," Dave said, grinning with her. "What about you? I pretty much dumped tutoring…"

"I got another tutor. Her name's Keisha," Becky explained. "What about Bennet?"

"Bennet has hooked up with a girl named Sandra Dees. He was the driving force behind the attempt to get back together," Dave said, sipping his coffee. He watched her reaction as he spoke. "He said I should apologize and whatnot. Bennet really wanted me to be sure about what I was doing."

"Good old Bennet," Becky said. "Hey, when he comes home, could you tell him I said thank for what he did?"

"No problem. He will undoubtedly be confused, though…"

Her cell phone rang suddenly. Becky looked at it and said, "Text message. Ooh. My friend needs a lift."

"Oh. Okay. Wanna meet up tomorrow and do something?"

"How about after classes we go to a pizzeria or something? I would love to catch up," Becky said, flashing him a smile.

"Ditto."

She set her coffee on the kitchen counter and headed for the door. Dave was about to close it after her, but then he realized something. "Becky!" he shouted. She stopped abruptly.

"Yeah?"

"When I was rude to you in the halls before… I'm sorry for that. I was being a jerk, and I was facing some conflicting feelings at the time," Dave said to her. "There was a part of me that wanted to say yes…"

"It's all right. Let's leave the past as the past. See you tomorrow."

"'Kay. Bye."

**.**

**.**

**.**

The meeting went incredibly well. They bought pizza at a pizzeria near the college, and talked. The two of them exchanged stories and whined about their dating lives. Becky told him about the recent decline in the amount of radio listeners, to which Dave sheepishly admitted he stopped tuning in. He made a mental note to start listening again. Dave in turn told her how Balthazar and Veronica were doing, as well as mentioning his secret boyfriend, Drake Stone. Becky squealed; she knew a bit about him, and was surprised he was a sorcerer.

They finished eating and cut their conversation short; Drake texted Dave and wanted him to come over to the penthouse. He was being dramatic over the fact he hadn't seen Dave in three hours. Dave rolled his eyes, said goodbye to Becky, and started for Drake's place. He didn't mention his ex-girlfriend to him, partially because he was afraid of the reaction he'd get. The other reason was because Drake wouldn't really be interested in his ex, any more so than he was interested in bananas.

One day, while he was having lunch at Drake's place, the blonde announced he wanted Dave to move in with him. Dave was torn. He would get to see Drake more often—which was good, considering how many upcoming shows would take up their time. Plus, it was simple to track down Dave's apartment. How easily had Horvath found him? But Dave didn't want to leave his friend. The two had memories in that apartment, and ever since breaking up with Becky, Dave confided in Bennet more.

"Aw, but Dave…" Drake moaned.

"No," he said firmly. He was not going to say anymore on the subject.

But a week after this decision, Bennet informed him that Sandra was getting serious about their relationship. She was hinting about moving in with him, or vice versa. It was clear from Bennet's tone that he wanted to see Sandra more often too. So, with some reluctance, Dave asked Drake permission to live with him. Drake welcomed him with open arms.

"You could be a bit more gracious about this," Dave commented as they each picked up a cardboard box.

"Hmm? How so?"

"You don't have to be so smug. Bennet was pretty sad. We're having a small farewell party, you know."

"A farewell party," Drake repeated, sniggering. "_Rich._"

"Lay off," Dave said.

Dave's things consisted of personal items, college and office supplies, some silverware, and clothes. Since he was going to be sharing a bed with Drake, he sold the one he had at the apartment. The two spent their afternoon bringing up boxes to the penthouse, unpacking them, and fitting the stuff into Drake's rooms. Dave surveyed Drake's room—now his room too—and felt mature. College students moved in with their partners all the time. Now he was one of those people.

"Looks good, huh?" he said to Drake.

"Connie will certainly have a field day," Drake noted as he began preparing dinner.

"How is she anyway? I haven't heard about her in weeks."

"She was busy with a new fashion show. Booking models and traveling," Drake said, waving his hand. "The usual. I'm gonna invite her over tomorrow so she can see the place."

"Won't she be horrified with the product."

Drake grinned.

They settled down to eat and just reveled in the silence. Dave couldn't believe he was actually sharing this place with Drake. An odd feeling sat in his stomach, but it was nothing of panic or fear. It was simply feeling at peace for once in his life.


	17. Sixteen

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any form of profit off of this fic._

**Anonymous Review Reply: **

_Aquacanis- Thanks for the previous reviews. I appreciate the compliments. I wish I could reply via PM message, but I'll have to make do. _

* * *

><p>16.<p>

"_**Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable." ~Jane Austen**_

When Veronica informed Balthazar about the Parasite Spell victims, the sorcerer had no idea what to expect. He'd been planning to go recover the bodies and carry out the required legal procedures, but being with his partner distracted him. After all, Balthazar had spent all this time pining after all; some kind of vacation was necessary.

He was surprised to hear the blonde one was alive. Out of all the Morganians Horvath recruited, he was the most stupid, the most naïve. But right off the bat, Balthazar knew Drake Stone would not be participating in any more Morganian schemes. He was a tad annoyed over the fact Dave hadn't bothered to tell him. It was even more irritating to know someone that attacked them was expecting his ring back. This Drake Stone was no threat, so it was decided he could keep the ring.

Balthazar was perplexed by the relationship between Dave and Drake. Overall, he thought Dave would be acquainted with much better people. Idiocy and intelligence did not mix, as far as Balthazar was concerned. He didn't comment; that wasn't like him to become interested in his apprentice's personal life. Well, not when it wasn't a good idea.

So when Balthazar arrived at Dave's apartment and Bennet explained why Dave wasn't living with him anymore, he felt inclined to get Dave's account of things. He called Veronica and rescheduled their dinner plans. It began to rain as he made his way to Drake's penthouse. He could already imagine how things would play out: he would speak, Dave would stutter nervously. He shook his head, keeping up his pace.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dave stayed in bed as Drake continued showering. They had woken up late, and Drake only had an hour to prepare himself and go to his rehearsal. Dave watched him go with a slight bitterness, despite knowing they could do whatever they wanted when he returned.

Drake got dressed quickly. It amazed Dave—how much crap did he have in his closet?

After having a quick breakfast, Drake said goodbye and started for the door. Dave sighed and headed for the kitchen. He wasn't that hungry. Actually, there was an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was bothering him, but he didn't know what. Would a black event occur? Dave settled down at the table and helped himself to some coffee. Whatever it was, it would go away.

"Dave," Drake called.

"Yeah?"

"Your master is at the door. He doesn't look happy."

Dave stood up from his chair. "How do you know it's him?"

"There's a peephole. Obviously," Drake said. "Why's he here? Do you two have to train?"

Dave suddenly groaned. "He probably was going to tell me that. I have no idea how he got here. I'm guessing he went to my old apartment and thought I would be there. Ugh, what a mess. How am I gonna explain this?"

"I dunno. How is this a problem? Just tell him the truth."

"No! He'll wonder why I'm with you when I can be with Bennet. It looks suspicious," Dave said. He hurried over to the door and looked through the peephole. Balthazar was standing there, a neutral expression on his face. He cringed anyways.

"I'm opening the door," Drake said.

He did so before Dave could exclaim a protest of any kind. Dave took a step back as Drake invited Balthazar inside. He began talking while Balthazar inspected the place curiously. What was he doing, looking for cameras? Dave gave him some space, feeling like an alien in his own shared place.

"I gotta go to work now," Drake said carefully. "Y'know, performing and all. You and Dave can talk here, or do whatever you have to. Don't burn anything." With that, he ducked into the hall and left. Dave couldn't believe Drake just scurried off like that. He was leaving him with the devil.

"So how did they let you up here?" Dave asked.

"I disguised myself as a businessman. I looked pretentious enough for them to believe I was one of Drake Stone's people," Balthazar answered.

"Will you be staying long?" Dave bit his lip.

"Let me get down to the point: what are you doing here?"

He was defensive immediately. "This is a free country. I can move out if I want." It sounded weak, even to his own ears.

"You know what I mean."

Dave sighed. Oh well. He had to tell him nonetheless. "Balthazar," Dave said. "I think you need to sit down for this."

"Oh boy. Should I take off my coat too?"

"It'll be quick," Dave said. The two took up solace on Drake's sofa; Dave winced when the water slid off the leather and onto the material, but he could use his water spell knowledge to fix the mess. Balthazar didn't waste time. He stared at Dave with his dark eyes, and he knew he had to come clean about not only the move, but the entire relationship.

He only hoped Balthazar wouldn't blow up at him.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"That's basically it," Dave said as he completed the retelling of the events. He included the recent friendship with Becky, which Balthazar was happy to hear. With any luck, that would soften him up. "We began dating…and that's it."

Balthazar sipped his coffee slowly before talking. Another method of turning him into a marshmallow. "Quite unusual for a courtship," he said. "Back in time, this kind of relationship was frowned upon. I remember same-sex couples being considered an illness in the later days."

"Are you surprised?" Dave asked him.

"That you're bisexual? Yes, I am," Balthazar admitted. "You liked Becky so much, I assumed I wasn't going to have orientation issues with you. I'm stunned you would become attracted to Drake Stone, of all people."

"He liked me first," Dave mumbled.

Balthazar finished his coffee. "I thought you liked smart people. Or someone with an ounce of common sense. Drake Stone is sloppy and naïve, Dave."

"That's only when magic is concerned."

"He's arrogant," Balthazar said. "I imagine Horvath was none too pleased with that."

"If he put up with it, so can I," Dave countered. "It's not that big of a deal, really. I think…we kind of, sort of, fit."

"Mmm."

"C'mon, Balthazar, give him a break." Dave gathered his master's cup and his own untouched cup, then placed them on the kitchen counter. He returned to find Balthazar speaking on the phone with Veronica. He made some dinner plans with her, then hung up.

"That reminds me," said Dave. "Are you gonna tell Veronica?"

"She should know," Balthazar replied. "She'll be seeing you around as much as I do. She'll have to get used to having Drake around as well."

"Could you give her the details?" Dave requested. "I think she might be more comfortable hearing it from you then from me."

"I agree." Balthazar got up from the sofa.

"You're leaving already?"

"I've got dinner plans," his master said with a smirk. "Besides, I don't have any business here. Meet me an hour later for training, at the lab." He headed for the door.

"Thanks," Dave muttered. "I'll see you there."

After Balthazar left, Dave washed the silverware and placed them back in the cupboards. He called Drake to tell him the good news, but he wasn't picking up. Dave left a lengthy voicemail and watched TV while he waited for him to get home.


	18. Seventeen

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not profitting off of this story in any way save for reviews._

**Writing Ramblings: **_I haven't updated in quite a while. For that, I apologize. I am scum. I just opened up my document and begun writing. It might throw some readers off considering Drave writers don't really include training. I mean, life is still going on for these characters, so why not include it? __The quote is talking about war and such, but I found it fitting for the image of Dave attempting to keep himself under control while all this residue is on him._

**Anonymous Review Reply:**

_Aquacanis- If you could set up your own account, that would be awesome. It's simple; if you ever run into a story you like that doesn't allow anonymous reviews, you can just use your formal account. Thanks for you review, and sorry for making you wait so long._

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><p>17.<p>

"_**Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity." ~George Carlin**_

In retrospect, advancing further in the forest without Balthazar was probably a bad idea.

Dave swatted a pixie away from his hair; a couple of them took to pulling at his curls, which was endlessly annoying. The others kept biting at him and trying to burn his eyes. Without much effort, he conjured a plasma bolt and shot it at the mass of blue, silver, and violet. A few pixies faltered, but overall, it did nothing to keep his attackers at bay.

Dave wasn't going to call Balthazar on this one. He would never hear the end of it if he did. Besides, how hard was it to get rid of pixies? Sure, they were _slightly_ aggressive, yet not totally formidable. Balthazar had instructed Dave to read the creatures page of the Encantus before heading out. He'd been doing it for a number of days, so trying to think up a resolve couldn't be too difficult.

The Encantus mentioned that pixies and fairies were two separate species. The pixies were the ones who enjoyed tormenting people, while the fairies were somewhat pesky, though helpful. No one was able to distinguish between to the creatures since they looked exactly the same. Dave groaned as a pixie jabbed his shoulder. Maybe if he'd waited like Balthazar told him to…

Drake's arrogance was starting to rub off him.

_Well, you can't really blame him, _Dave thought to himself. _You would've gone anyways._ He was brought back to reality when two violet pixies managed to give him a well-sized cut.

"Ow, guys," he yelped. "Can't we talk things out for a minute?"

_Moron. Pixies can't talk._ Dave fired two more plasma bolts at the bunch. Then, he began to run towards the way he came from. No doubt Balthazar was picking up the pace after discovering his apprentice was missing.

_Way to go, Dave,_ Balthazar would probably say.

"This is why it _helps_ to listen to your master." Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. "What mess have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Not my fault!" Dave shouted. The pixies couldn't speak, but they sure could screech. The loud noises reminded him of blaring horns and a traffic jam. "I was just curious!"

Balthazar scoffed. "Curious." Veronica appeared further down the trail. She was shaking her head, her expression torn between amusement and worry. Apparently, she was worried over the attacking pixies, or what Balthazar might do to punish him.

Balthazar held out his hands, fingers splayed. Light sparks of white came out and sprayed over all the pixies. Their screams decreased considerably. A large chunk split away from the group and fluttered away. Some of the pixies followed their example; the ones that stayed behind watched spitefully. Dave felt a childish urge to stick his tongue out at them, but he knew better.

"Are you unharmed?" Veronica asked, making her way to the two men.

"I'm fine, thanks," Dave answered. He shot a wary look at Balthazar.

"What made you think you could handle pixies?"

Dave suppressed a laugh. "It was a stupid move, but look at the way you put it. Pixies are supposed to be nice. Normal creatures."

"Ridiculous humans and their ridiculous books," Balthazar murmured, inspecting Dave's bare skin. He gave Dave a disapproving look. "They always feel the need to glamorize magical creatures. Fairies are okay, but no one tries to look out for the pixies. You've read the Encantus, Dave, you know how they are."

"So I went on ahead," Dave admitted. "What's the big deal? I'm fine now. Pixies don't have enough energy to kill a person."

"Injure a human, sure, but not a sorcerer or sorceress," Veronica corrected. She brushed his jeans and then moved on to his jacket. Concern flickered across her face. "You should always wait for your master, Dave, and be sure to listen to him. Small mistakes may look meaningless, but they usually have consequences."

She suddenly paused to look at him. He held her stare, only because it was Veronica. Had it been Balthazar, he would've reacted defensively. Veronica broke off their eye contact; her eyebrows knitted together. She gestured for Balthazar to step back for a moment. He did what she wanted.

"Dave…?"

"Yeah?"

"How much knowledge do you have about pixies?" Veronica spoke carefully. Her tone threw Dave off a little. He didn't understand why she was acting like this, but what she said about consequences rung in his ears.

He answered reluctantly, "Well, they're hard to tell from fairies. Pixies are aggressive and like bothering people. I'm not sure how they can be stopped, although Balthazar answered that question for me."

"It's one of the light spells," Balthazar interjected. "Not a lot of them out there, but I'll get around to teaching them. You can also stop both fairies and pixies with a water spell."

"I don't recall that in our lesson," Dave said.

"That's because we were learning about how to use water around you. I was going to show you how it can be used to stop certain creatures or people," Balthazar sighed. "Why do you think I brought you out here today? To show you the scenery?"

Dave shrugged his shoulders. "You just mentioned more training. I assumed you wanted to change training places. I also assume you don't like the possibility of Drake showing up at the lab…" His voice turned into a whisper at the end, simply because Veronica was there. He was somewhat comfortable using the name around Balthazar—he was still trying to get used to his master and his wife knowing about his male partner—but there were still problems.

Balthazar grunted in return. He seemed to agree.

"Balthazar," Veronica said. "I see a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"The pixies were around long enough to leave behind residue…" She shook her head regretfully.

"Wait, what's the problem?" Dave said hurriedly. "What about this residue?"

"Dave," Balthazar said bluntly, "pixies leave behind residue if you don't get rid of them fast enough. That residue manipulates your emotions."

"Manipulates?"

Veronica crossed her arms. "If only we could remove the residue. Alas."

Balthazar answered the question for him, speaking quickly. "It causes the regular emotions you feel on a daily basis to grow more extreme. For example, if you come across a person in your life you don't like, the feeling of dislike is going to blow up. See how mere dislike can morph into hatred in just a few minutes?"

The first feeling Dave experienced was panic. He immediately attempted to control his emotions. He bit down on his bottom lip and said, "When does this start? Right now?"

"Usually ten or fifteen minutes after you've received the residue," Balthazar said. "This is exactly another reason to listen to your master. This type of residue is only left behind by pixies, thankfully. Sometimes it disappears altogether, but not for you, Dave."

"What am I supposed to do?" Dave tried not to wail. He probably failed. It wasn't his fault; he was going to be having some emotional fireworks soon enough!

"I suggest you go back to your place and just sit tight. It'll be over when a new day starts," Balthazar said.

Dave couldn't believe he'd have to wait until midnight came to actually enjoy the day. He had been planning to have some coffee with Becky. He would have to call and cancel now. Of course, then he would feel incredibly down, thanks to the residue. Drake was busy planning his show, so he wouldn't show up at the penthouse until it got dark.

Dave realized that as soon as Drake arrived, he would want to have relations. He groaned. He would now have to deal with that complication as well. If residue manipulated your feelings that bad, he would become the most lustful person one earth after a single kiss.

And if he rejected the kiss, he knew Drake would be upset.

As if following the same train of thought, Balthazar said, "This could be a good experience for you. It _might_ convince you to actually listen to your master."

**.**

**.**

**.**

Balthazar delivered Dave to the penthouse. He even walked him up to the very floor. Veronica had gone back to Arcana Cabana; despite being a great sorceress, she still had to practice her spells. Dave didn't bother to ask Balthazar to cancel his plans with Becky for him. For one reason, it was completely and utterly embarrassing. It would also be awkward for Balthazar, who hadn't seen Becky in a while. Plus, Dave wasn't in any mood to be lectured, so he decided to just do it himself.

Dave sat in the living room. He was dressed in only a t-shirt and fresh jeans. He picked up the phone to tell Becky the bad news; he kept stock of his emotions while doing so. It was odd, to be watching yourself. He was in a very careful state. Dave breathed in and out as he dialed her number.

_I'm feeling pretty fine now. A little wary, but fine nonetheless,_ Dave chanted mentally. He wondered if that would help.

"Hi, Dave," Becky said.

"Becky, I've got to cancel. I'm sorry." He immediately launched into a short explanation. Becky listened patiently. She said she was fine with the cancellation, and they could meet up when he felt better. They exchanged goodbyes and Dave hung up.

Dave considered calling Drake to tell him about his stupid antics, but it seemed unnecessary. He was working and probably wouldn't pick up. Maybe it was because he didn't want Drake to know how he royally screwed up this afternoon.

Dave left a voicemail. He simply said he and Balthazar were going to train in the forest, but then pixies attacked him. He included the part about the residue as well. It sounded much better than what he'd done originally. Dave felt good as he set his cell phone on the coffee table. He put on the news and waited for his partner to return home.


	19. Eighteen

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any sort of profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings: **_You think this is OOC? Blame the residue, not the writer. Enjoy, guys! _

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><p>18.<p>

"_**You can go through spells where you feel that maybe you're too sensitive for this world. I certainly felt that." ~Winona Ryder**_

Despite being half-asleep, Dave could tell that the door was being opened by no one other than Drake. He propped himself up on his elbows. His eyes were open, but it was definitely a battle to keep them that way. Dave staggered towards the door, stretching his arms and yawning while doing so. He was face-to-face with Drake now; he was carrying a somewhat wet plastic bag. Drake looked absolutely calm.

"Where have you been" were the first words that flew out of his mouth.

Drake's eyebrows raised considerably. "I was working."

"I wasn't talking about that," Dave snapped. He was pleased with the edge to his tone. It was nice to actually get something off his chest after all this worrying. "Your rehearsal ended half an hour ago. What have you been doing?"

"Sorry. I got held up by traffic," Drake replied. He walked past Dave and placed the bag on the sofa. He removed his coat.

The lazy movement infuriated him. "I was wondering what happened to you. I tried calling two times, but you didn't pick up."

"Dave," the blonde drawled, settling on the sofa. "Please put your complaints to rest. I'm tired. I worked my arse off today and I just want to relax."

"Hey, I was busy too," Dave shot back. "I had classes and then there was the shit with the fairies and there was nothing good on TV—"

"Pixies. It was pixies."

"Whatever," Dave said. "I just wanted to know what you were doing after work."

"It was nothing to get worked up over. I simply picked up something from the market and tried to get through traffic," Drake said. "Dave, stop blowing this wildly out of proportion."

"_Me?_"

"Yeah, you."

"It's not my fault," Dave said bitingly. "You know it's the damn residue. If you didn't want any sort of emotional confrontation, you should've just told me right away."

"I don't know that much about magical creatures, Dave. I had a limited education, so forgive me for not knowing the exact nature of this residue. Now, if you're done…I'm going to close my eyes for a bit."

Dave bit back anything that might destroy Drake's excuse. As angry as he was, he knew it wasn't Drake's fault. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid for even assuming anything terrible happened. Sure, being the Prime Merlinean, you would expect Dave and his loved ones to be popular targets for Morganians, but no one even knew about Drake yet. And it wasn't like the blonde would purposely come home late. The previous scene replayed in his head. Dave never sounded more moronic.

"Are you _crying?_"

"What. No." Although Dave did feel something wet run down his cheeks.

"Dave. Twenty-something-year-olds do not tear up," Drake said, getting up from the sofa. "They just don't."

He mumbled something incoherent under his breath. It didn't matter whether Drake actually heard it or not. He couldn't believe he was crying. You only shed tears over something serious, like a deceased relative or a mean teacher. Dave wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"Forget it," he mumbled. "I'm gonna go."

"Where to?" Drake asked. His expression was guarded. "It's the fairy residue that's making you act like this. Just drop it." He gathered a box of tissues from the shelf and handed it out to Dave. "Do you want to take it easy in our room?"

He sniffed. "Pixies."

"Huh?"

"Pixies," Dave repeated. "It wasn't fairy residue. Pixies are the only creatures to leave that kind of substance behind."

Drake probably wanted to roll his eyes right now, but knew better than to provoke more tears.

"Okay. Pixies. Can we have sex now?"

Dave let out a choked laugh. "Sure."


	20. Nineteen

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any profit off of this fic._

**Writer Ramblings:**_ I was going to leave out the bit with Drake spying on Becky (it seemed so stalker-esque), but I couldn't. And yes, Drake was quite blunt about sex in the last chapter. What can I say? I was paving the way for the beginning of this chapter._

**Anonymous Review Reply: **

_Sweet-Hearted SilverEars- Was it really? I simply formed it for laughs. Or maybe that's just my outlook. Thanks for the review._

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><p>19.<p>

"_**On my waist, through my hair/ Think about it when you touch me there/ Close my eyes, here you are/ All alone, dancing in the dark." ~Dev, "In The Dark"**_

By the time the incredibly slow hour-and-a-half-long intercourse ended, Dave was nothing more than limp flesh. His entire body was dotted with hot sweat, the proof of sex evident on his pale skin. While Drake got up to shower, Dave contently laid on the bed, his head buried under his crossed arms. Even without the load of heightened emotions, Dave would've been completely exhausted. This was one of the downsides to being the bottom—or maybe Dave was just born to be weak during these kind of things.

He heard the sound of running water. Dave knew that if he were capable of handling any form of insults, Drake would have tsked at his apparent lack of strength. Dave supposed that silence was better than words; after they finished having relations, there would usually be a cloud of awkwardness lingering in the room. Maybe it was because of Dave's personality, or perhaps it was simply because they had nothing to say. Dave wasn't experienced with sex and girlfriends, so he had no clue if this was natural.

Although these type of thoughts were trivial, Dave was glad he was thinking them now. He needed the distraction. A wandering mind was dangerous while under the influence of pixie residue. He definitely did not want a repeat of his crybaby tears.

"_Wouldn't want anyone hearing your girly cries, right?"_

He flushed. He recalled that particular conversation well. It was sort of funny, in a way. Who knew the two would end up as partners? It made Drake's line so much more suggestive than it really was. His face grew redder. Dave cursed under his breath. The residue was going to ruin a good part of day. It felt like he was smack-dab in the middle of the desert. Next time, Dave would actually listen to Balthazar. Or attempt to, anyways.

"Dave, your phone's ringin'!"

"I'm coming," he mumbled. Dave slipped out of bed and grabbed his shirt from off the floor. He pulled it on and made his way to the living room. Drake was there, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was holding Dave's phone with an annoyed look on his face.

"Why is she calling?"

She? Dave thought. Then it clicked. "Oh. Becky, you mean?"

"Yeah, her."

"It's not a big deal," Dave said. He held out his hand. "Give it here."

The phone kept ringing, but Drake kept his hold on the device. "Whaddya mean, 'Give it here?'"

"I have to answer her. Duh," Dave replied.

"Why can't she leave a voicemail?"

"We're not doing anything, she doesn't have to," he insisted. "Now give me my phone. I want to see what she wants."

Drake unwillingly pressed the phone into the palm of his hand. He then left the room, possibly to change clothes. Or whine about Becky in his own head. Whatever. Dave shot his retreating back an irritated look as he accepted Becky's call.

"Becky?"

"Hey, Dave. It took you a long time to answer. Are you doing anything right now?"

Dave bit his lip. "I just finished a lengthy…activity right now, so I'm a bit tuckered out."

She got the message immediately. When she spoke, she sounded very embarrassed. Dave couldn't blame her. His own awkward demeanor returned. "Oh," Becky said. "Sorry. I'll make it quick then—would you like to have coffee another time?"

"Sure. What's good for you?"

"Well, I'm free tomorrow. How does three o'clock sound?"

"Perfect. See you there," Dave said. They talked about the residue for a bit, and then exchanged goodbyes. Dave ended the call and went back to the bedroom for a fresh bundle of clothes.

Drake was already there. His entire getup was black and flamboyant. Dave felt like the small jewels on the pants were about to slap his face. He sat beside Drake on the bed.

"So. What was with that display back there?"

"What did she want?" asked Drake, ignoring him completely. Dave blinked in surprise. Drake didn't use that sort of tone with him. It was sharp and unfriendly in the extremes.

"She wanted me to have coffee with her," Dave said. Reluctant as he was to give out information, he had a feeling Drake would find out nonetheless.

"And of course you said no."

"Why would I say no?"

Drake scowled. "So you agreed."

"Yeah, basically," Dave said. "What's the matter."

"She could want to meet you on…false pretenses."

Dave laughed and began to search the closet for his own clothes. "I can't believe you said that. It's not like she wants to get back together or anything. We're just meeting up for coffee."

"You don't know that," Drake said, accusation clearly in his voice. "She could secretly still be interested."

"Drake…come on."

"She wants to revive the relationship," he muttered. "I knew it. Something wasn't right about that girl."

"Stop worrying. Listen, I'll explain everything as soon as I get all this crappy fluid off my body." Dave gathered his new clothes and set them on the floor. He tugged on the soiled sheets and went to put them in the currently silent washing machine. Dave returned to the bedroom. Drake looked a bit angry now.

"You don't know that," he suddenly said. He met Dave's gaze. "You can't read her thoughts; you don't know whether she wants to get together again or not."

Fed up, he retaliated, "I know that, Mr. Stone, because I've met her on several occasions, and she has not mentioned getting back together once."

Drake stood up immediately. "What?"

"You heard me."

Eyes flashing, Drake said, "Why didn't you tell me you two were meeting each other? What, you thought it wasn't something that needed to be said?"

"Bullshit," Dave snapped. "I kept it to myself because I knew you would act like _this._ It's not like you were particularly pleased with her presence. I decided I would tell you about it at a good time."

"Act like this?" he cried. "I'm completely justified. You were going behind my back to meet up with—"

"We're just friends!" Dave yelled. "Do you not understand that? Strictly platonic!"

"It doesn't matter. You should've told me the moment she talked to you again. I would like to know how your ex-girlfriend is involved with you, Dave. It would've been fine, even if I didn't like the chick. But no, you went and made sure it was a secret," Drake spat back.

"Why are you getting worked up over this? It's not like we've been dating or seeing each other for months! It's been a couple of weeks," Dave shot at him. "I said I was gonna explain, but you blew up at me!"

Drake opened his mouth, but surprisingly, closed it. The two glared at one another in silence for a few minutes before Drake left the room. Dave assumed he was leaving the penthouse; the loud slam of the door confirmed his suspicions. Dave sighed and went to take a shower. It was no good to stand around and do nothing. He hoped Drake would cool off by the time he was done.

**.**

**.**

**.**

She was at the radio station, as expected. The girl was busy with her headphones and meaningless chatter. If Drake was being honest with himself, he knew this was uncalled for. It wasn't even necessary; what would he gain from spying on her? Drake placed his forehead on the glass and sighed heavily. It bothered him when Becky was mentioned. It probably wasn't fair to her, but that was how he felt.

It wasn't jealousy, he knew, but a reserved annoyance for the girl. Could she actually be nice and sweet and charitable? Possibly. But she was the average human girl: ordinary and nothing more. She was like the sidewalk, flat and complete with a few cracks. A relationship between Dave and Becky just couldn't happen. Drake didn't know much, but he knew that it would be nothing more than an afternoon's delight. There were sweet couples out there and Dave and Becky didn't fit the mold. How would they even find time to be with one another? He was the Prime Merlinean after all. And Becky was...human.

Drake departed from the scene and walked back to the penthouse. He liked his speedy car, but today, he had to take it slow. Besides, he'd forgotten the option of taking his car, so it was back at his parking lot. Drake rubbed his eyes as he paused at the street. He dated a handful of girls like Becky, and they certainly didn't bother him. Deep down, there was another reason for the irritation. Drake liked to be the focus of attention. He liked hearing himself on the radio and reading about his conquests in the papers. His especially liked being with different men and women. He'd never had anyone akin to Dave in his life, sexual or otherwise. He tended to avoid those who didn't enjoy his shows or himself in general. The people he'd dated were either obsessed fans (they were women, and they loved to load heaps of praise onto him) or men straight out of the closests (they were usually shy, and enjoyed being with a confident bi man).

So maybe it was the fact Dave didn't wholeheartedly throw himself at him.

Drake scowled. Yes, Dave had his own life and his own friends. He didn't spend every minute with Drake and didn't compliment him all the time. So it had to be that. Drake continued his way to the penthouse, wondering how to make up for his little act.


	21. Twenty

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any part of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any form of profit off of this fic. Except for reviews._

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><p>20.<p>

"_**Any reaction is better than none." ~Gavin Rossdale**_

_Almost time to hand her in, _Dave thought mournfully as he ran one hand down his favored Tesla coils. He had been too preoccupied with the daily troubles of life—training, relationship problems, old flames—to actually come down to the lab and work on his project. Although the coils were nearly complete, it didn't change the fact he'd been neglecting some things. He sighed to himself before pulling a rusty chair over. He sat down and ran a hand through his curls. Dave's lab used to be a source of comfort for him. When he was in a black mood, and neither Bennet nor television could help him, he would go down to his lab to blow off some steam. The coils provided a nice distraction for him. When they were gone, the lab would be of little use; merely empty and unused.

He swallowed. He shouldn't think of such upsetting things. What Dave really needed was a smile on his face. He came down to the lab to get back into the retired habit, but seeing his soon-to-be abandoned coils saddened him even more. Dave slumped back in his chair. He considered talking to someone. Wasn't that what girls did in the movies? Grab a friend, sit down, and moan about emotional experiences? He just didn't have anyone to call. While Balthazar was always willing to give out advice and be a figure in his life, Dave knew he couldn't mention Drake to him. Balthazar still carried a sort of dislike against him. There was Veronica, but he felt embarrassed talking about his relationship with Drake with her. Even if he did call her, she would relay the conversation to Balthazar.

There was Becky. Dave grimaced at the thought of going to complain to her. That was a huge no-no.

An idea flickered in his mind. Dave imagined a bright light bulb hanging over his head. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and began dialing. He knew _exactly_ who to call.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Drake arrived at the door of his penthouse room, he expected Dave to greet him with a lesser degree of kindness. Or ask him to come inside to work things out. Something that included interaction with his partner. However, that was not the case, as he knocked several times and no one came to open the door. Drake wondered if Dave was really that mad at him. It had been a stupid fight, but would he actually go as far as to ignore him? Drake used his key to get inside. He checked out the living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, but there was no sign of Dave.

So he had fled. Hmph.

Drake picked up his phone and called Dave. He didn't get a response at all, so he abandoned the plan of making up over the phone. Drake groaned, then returned to his room to pick up his mood. His form of regaining happiness was painting his nails. His black nail polish _usually_ cheered him up, but the magic wasn't working today. He set it down after completing the task. Drake thought about calling an associate to complain to, yet decided not to. It was late and they would be either sleeping, getting drunk at a bar, or indulging in some midnight relations.

Ah, Drake thought. It was midnight. Dave's residue must've worn off by now. Of course, it meant that Dave was out of his own accord. Drake stuck his face into a pillow. Fights sucked.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Oh. I thought I got the address wrong," Constance said as she stepped inside. "I didn't know you had this large a space."

"Yeah," Dave said, nodding. He closed the door behind her. "My dad gave me the money for it; just an average subway turnaround. Listen, Constance, thanks for coming over on such short notice."

"It's not a problem. I'm happy to help." She walked down the stairs carefully. Dave chewed on his lip as he descended the stairs. Constance's clothes looked average enough, but they were probably from designer origins, considering her status. He wondered if she was upset about the dust that was sure to be gathering under her high-heeled boots. But he didn't have any other place to invite her to.

Dave pulled two chairs in the middle of the lab, including a hard wooden table. He'd bought coffee before she arrived; it was sitting on the surface, steam rising from the Styrofoam containers. Constance placed her purse on top of the table and sat down. As she pried off her gloves, Dave walked over to seat himself as well. He offered her the coffee. She thanked him and took it.

"What's this place for?" Constance asked. "It's huge."

"I needed a place to make my Tesla coils. Over there," Dave said, jerking his head to his invention. "It's for a project my college professor gave us."

"That looks...complicated."

Dave grinned sheepishly. "Everyone's into different things. It's basically my lab."

"I wish I had this lab. I could definitely use it to get away from the dramas of designing," Constance said, sipping her coffee.

"That's kind of what I use it for. Somtimes I just sit here to get away from everything."

Constance wiggled her eyebrows at him. "I'm guessing that's what you're doing now. So what is this specific problem with Drake?"

"Well...a few months ago, I reconciled with an ex-girlfriend. We're friends now and it's better that way. We just talk about stuff. You know," Dave said, shrugging his shoulders. He had no idea if Constance understood what he was saying, but that was that. She nodded, so he took it as a good sign. "Drake found out about her when she called to meet me up for coffee. I told him it wasn't a big deal..." He let his sentence trail off, hoping she'd get the main idea.

"I see," Constance said. "I can understand his frustration. I mean, Dave, you did keep it a secret."

"I did," he admitted. "But it's not like we were going out or anything. I'm her friend. He basically told me he didn't trust her because she was an ex-girlfriend."

"I haven't seen this girl. How she is like?"

He frowned. This was not the conversation he wanted to have. He was sort of hoping Constance would be on his side, but she was apparently keen on defending Drake. "She's really nice. Becky personally told me she didn't want the relationship we used to have. We're simply friends."

"Why didn't you tell Drake in the first place?" Constance inquired. "It would've been the honest thing to do. I don't want to accuse you of anything, Dave, but it would've been easier just to say, 'Hi, Drake, guess what? Becky wants to be friends. Isn't that nice?'"

Dave's hands tightened around the cup. He focused on counting to ten in his mind, like his childhood therapist suggested. It rarely worked. He was starting to have a headache and the numbers made it worse. He forced himself to speak, but did it very slowly. "I suppose so. But he did act very dramatic about the whole thing. He thought she had hidden motives or something. If I told him, he'd act like that anyways. I guess I didn't think it was the right time. I would've told him some day."

"Some day," Constance said lightly. The words seemed to roll off her tongue. "Some day."

She drank her coffee and kept her eyes on the cracks in the floor. Dave's face reddened, just a bit. It felt like she was implying something. He was positive it wasn't an accident.

"It was the way he blew up," Dave said weakly. "He should've told me how he felt. That he was annoyed I'd kept it a secret, as opposed to acting the way he did. He stormed out of the penthouse, you know."

"You left as well..."

Ugh. There was no arguing with this woman. "Constance," Dave said hastily, "I need to get home now to make up things with Drake. Thanks for your help."

"Sure," she said, a smile on her face. "No problem. I'll be going now. And thank you for letting me into this lab of yours. It was admittedly nice to see one."

He smiled at her, although it was not very enthusiastic. Constance put on her gloves, picked up her purse, and exited the lab.

"I should've called Becky," Dave mumbled.


	22. Twenty One

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any sort of profit off of this fic. EXCEPT for reviews._

**Writing Ramblings:** _The fights these two have are pretty petty and trivial. That's my opinion, of course, but... I decided to give them something to really think about; something worthwhile. Couples do have obstacles to overcome, and they don't have to come in the shape of fights._

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><p>21.<p>

"_**The most wasted day is that in which we have not laughed." ~Chamfort**_

_Watch your temper, watch your temper, _Drake mentally chanted in his head as he came to a stop at the door. He had gone over several short speeches in his head, but all of them sounded stupid when he spoke aloud. He was reduced to going on the Internet for an answer; Drake chose the words he liked the best, then waited for Dave to arrive. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't feel ticked when Becky Barnes was mentioned.

He opened the door. Dave looked smaller than usual. He stood in the hallway awkwardly, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. Drake smiled tightly at him before grasping Dave's arm and pulling him into the living room. Dave appeared to be surprised with the action. Drake wasn't sure if it was a good kind of surprise or not. He decided to go for the positive option.

Drake directed Dave to the sofa. It was the only one in the living room, so he would have to sit right next to Dave while their talk. The blonde didn't dislike coming in contact with Dave—it was just sure to be uncomfortable after a fight. He was correct. He could see Dave slightly shifting away from him. Drake released a frustrated sigh. It was up to him to speak first.

"Sorry," he said. "Do you want to change clothes or something?"

"No, I'm fine," Dave replied. He sounded a little shocked at Drake's pleasant tone, although he was trying to cover it up.

"Okay. I wanted to say I'm sorry for yelling at you before," Drake said, carefully watching Dave's expression. "It wasn't very nice. I believe you when you say Becky is simply a friend."

"Thanks. I'm sorry too—for not telling you about her sooner, I mean. This kind of thing won't happen again."

Drake raked a hand through his hair. Dave mirrored him, shyly touching his own hair. Drake smiled, then got back to the matter at hand. "I think we both did some stuff wrong. Let's promise not to let stupid things happen anymore, all right? Let's try to be civilized next time."

"That is a contradicting statement, but I accept," Dave told him. He broke into a hesitant grin.

The two went on to talk about Becky a little, before Dave mentioned Constance. Drake told him that Constance favored celebrities as opposed to lesser known people, which explained why she took his side during their little chat. She was an airhead that way, but he loved her nonetheless. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was shocked Dave would even think about asking Constance. The two hadn't seen one another much and didn't have anything in common. But he forgot about that as soon as they entered their bedroom.

Drake spent a good remainder of the night snogging with Dave. The couple hadn't made much progress as Balthazar and Veronica might have, but Drake shrugged it off. He was young. It wasn't necessary to worry over something like this. They had plenty of time to grow up.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Drake expected to come home to his boyfriend of ten months and perhaps a nice dinner. He arrived at the penthouse to see no boyfriend or dinner in sight. Drake sighed. He had told Dave in the morning that this was his last rehearsal, that his next show would be coming up soon. The response had been lacking in enthusiasm. Drake thought that when he saw Dave again and told him about the horrible day at work, he would receive some sympathy. But, as fate would have it, Dave was absent.

He was about to hit the showers when his phone began buzzing. The number was unknown, which puzzled Drake. His personal number was incredibly private. Everyone he knew swore to keep it to themselves. He pressed the device to his ear and wished he hadn't.

"Drake! Are you here?"

The loud screech probably shattered his eardrums. Wincing, Drake replied, "Who is this?"

"It's me...Becky."

His left eye twitched a little. "How did you get my number?"

"Dave gave it to me," Becky answered. Drake stifled a moan. Great. Now this chick had his cell phone number. "Listen, I know you don't like me very much, but something urgent has happened."

"What's the problem?" Drake demanded. A morbid thought crossed his mind. "Did something happen to Dave?"

"No, no, it isn't him—it's his mother," Becky said. "He got a call from the hospital—his mom had this accident. Dave went to the hospital immediately and asked me to call you."

_Shit. _"How serious is it?" Drake asked.

"I don't know; he didn't give me the details, just said there was an accident and I had to call you." She sounded worried nonetheless. "I think it could be something serious, but I'm not certain. Do you want the hospital's address?"

"Give it."

**.**

**.**

**.**

The next three weeks were hellish. Dave's mother had fallen down the stairs and received some injuries. Her life wasn't in danger, but it didn't make Dave feel any better. Drake had seen Ms. Patterson on the bed, bruised and covered in bandages. She looked terrible and was in some pain. Dave spent an hour with her, as that was all the doctor could allow. Drake had been sitting in the waiting room, unsure of what to do. Dave had put on his brave face in the hospital, but at home, he was vulnerable. When he thought Drake was asleep, he began to cry.

Drake tried his best to comfort him. He kept saying it'd be all right and his mother wouldn't want him to be so upset, but the words had little effect on Dave. Dave's friends attempted to cheer him up, and failed miserably. Even Becky couldn't encourage him out of his black mood. Balthazar had some chats with Dave after or before training, though they helped just a bit. Veronica wanted to say something to him, Drake could tell, but the woman kept her mouth closed. She felt like Dave needed to deal with this on his own; she believed no one could really help Dave through this, only stay by his side.

While Dave's schoolwork and training seemed to survive the situation, Drake's relationship with him took a turn for the worse. They hardly talked to one another. Drake was afraid of saying the wrong things and causing another argument. Their sex life suffered as well. Drake didn't pressure him for sex and Dave was never in the mood. He was certain that even if they did have relations, neither one of them would be into it. They didn't even exchange kisses as much. Drake was beginning to worry they might separate, but Constance and his other associates assured him nothing like that would occur. As soon as his mother got better, Dave's attitude would improve. Drake could do nothing but hope for the best.

Then the day came when Dave informed him his mother was healing well, and would probably be out of the hospital soon. Drake was pleased with the news, but his emotions changed after Dave said he was going to take care of her. Vacation was coming up; Dave wanted to use the time to move to her house for a while and assist her. It would be half a month before Drake saw him again. Drake's face fell, but he didn't say much about the subject. What could he do about it?

He helped Dave move a few things to his mother's home. Ms. Patterson didn't know about their relationship yet. She believed Drake was Dave's friend, and Dave wasn't about to tell her otherwise. "After she heals," Dave had said firmly. So when Drake said goodbye to Dave on his mother's property, he could only shake hands. He had a burning desire to hug or kiss him, but that wasn't happening. He returned to the penthouse with the feeling of dread sinking into his bones.


	23. Twenty Two

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any sort of profit off of this fic. Except for reviews, alerts, or faves._

**Writing Ramblings: _EFF. _**_I forgot about Tank, AGAIN! So forgive the sudden introduction of him in one of the paragraphs. Also, we're nearing the end of For Want of a Nail! So keep reviewing and keep reading! We've still got a couple of more chapters (uncertain of the exact number), but we're coming towards the end!_

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><p>22.<p>

**"**_**The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed." ~Carl Gustav Jung**_

"...What did you say?"

"I'm sorry. I want to reschedule, but it's not possible," Drake said. The plea was evident in his tone, but Dave chose to ignore it.

"It's not possible?" Dave repeated. "I thought you were the great Drake Stone. What, you can't whip up some kind of excuse? Move it to another date?"

"I told you already, I can't do that. I've been planning this for a good amount of time, and even before Horvath came along, I was thinking about this," Drake snapped. If he hadn't meant to say the words so sharply, Dave would never know. They cut him like knives all the same. "It's not possible, Dave. You don't understand."

"I would've understood just fine if the circumstances were different," Dave said, trying to hold down his temper.

It was a while before Drake spoke, and when he did, he spoke slowly. "I'm sorry. I am. I want you to come with me—"

"So why can't I?"

"You've still got school, Dave, in case you haven't noticed. You can't expect to tag along and leave behind all this work. You have an education. Also, there's training. You know better than I do that Balthazar will never let you go out of the country," Drake said angrily. "Not only that, think about your mum. How would she have felt if you told her you were leaving the United States for a year?"

Dave wanted to say something back. He wanted to argue and threaten Drake and curse the world. But he held his tongue, because he knew Drake was right on all accounts. There were too complications for him to travel with Drake on his tour. It wasn't fair, though. He wasn't going to see Drake for a whole damn year. He was going to be limited to e-mails, text messages, and phone conversations, which was worse than not seeing Drake at all. It meant having to hear his voice, but not being allowed to see his face or touch his skin. He would also be busy partying with other well-known people and talking with possible business clients. He wouldn't have that much time for him. Dave's lower lip trembled; he had to bite down on it to stop.

"It's not fair," he mumbled under his breath.

Drake didn't answer, but Dave knew he'd heard him.

Finally, after several quiet minutes, Drake apologized once again. "I'm sorry. It would be bloody nice to have you to myself for a whole damn year. But it's not happening."

"So that's it?" Dave said. "End of discussion?"

"It would be fitting to say life happens" was all Drake said.

Dave nodded to himself. He counted to ten in his head, like his childhood therapist had advised him to do when caught in a difficult situation. It didn't work this time. That wasn't a surprise. This method had failed him for years. Dave lowered his head and said into his phone, "Well, I see it's not possible, then. Sorry for even bringing it up. Call me when it's time for you to leave."

He hung up and stared at the floor of his mother's guest room for what seemed like eternity. Then, very slowly and silently, he sank to the carpet.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Life continued for Dave. He pretended he had never heard the bad news, although he slipped up when he called Drake, or received some sort of message from him in the morning. Despite their conversations, Dave missed him. It reminded him of the Becky incident—both the Becky incident and the Arcana Cabana incident. He had almost secured a girlfriend when he was ten-years-old, but the moment flew away from him. It felt like he was losing someone important to him all over again. But Dave attempted to move on like a normal, sane person. He was doing pretty good, if Dave said so himself.

He went to all the classes and tried his best to learn all there was to learn. Dave had had to give in his Tesla coils, which was a very sentimental moment for him. He talked to Drake about it, and even though the blonde attempted to sound sad for him, he knew he was secretly laughing on the inside. Sometimes, when he was in the middle of a particularly dull class, he thought of Drake coming back and being surprised at how smart he'd gotten. Dave would always outsmart him when it came to the battle of intelligence.

The people who knew about his boyfriend were sympathetic, but glad he was carrying on in a mature fashion. Becky was a supportive, good friend. She'd gotten more people to listen to her radio show, and even got back together with Andre Dunlap. From what Dave heard, it was a steady relationship. Bennet and Sandra broke up, then reconciled, and then promptly broke up once more. At least he'd gotten a job, unlike Dave. Bennet was an assistant to some type of a professor. Dave and Constance talked once in a while, but it was obvious she was busy with her career.

When Balthazar learned about Drake's tour, Dave thought he would leap with joy. No Drake meant no distractions, in Balthazar's mind, and more time for training. He was partially correct. Being Balthazar, he remarked cynically, but gave him a short speech about how this was life, and Drake being gone for a year was the least of his troubles. Veronica was a tad more considerate, but she did agree with Balthazar on a couple of things. While Drake was gone, Dave was attacked by all sorts of magical creatures and went on numerous escapades. A few Morganians popped up every now and then, but Balthazar made mincemeat of them real quick. Sometimes Dave even helped. Horvath was fading away into the woodwork, although Balthazar, Veronica, and Dave were sure he would strike again one day. Perhaps not today, but one day.

There were bad times as well. Dave had the whole penthouse to himself. The large home full of nice and expensive things suddenly felt very empty. His only company was Tank. The dog had been upset with the sudden move, but calmed down, and eventually made a habit of sleeping under Drake's desk. Dave found it to be amusing at times; other times, he wanted Tank to move his behind and sleep in the living room, as opposed to Drake's private study. It did suck to know he missed a year of experiences with Drake. Not only that, his mother was still unaware about his partner. She kept mentioning dating sites and blind dates. Dave knew he was going to have to introduce Drake to her someday. Dave just tried to keep the bad thoughts at bay.

It worked most of the time. Keyword being most.


	24. Twenty Three

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any sort of profit off of this fic. Except for reviews, alerts, or faves._

**Writer's Request: All righty, kids. **_I would like to make an official request. Since this fic is at its end (sad face), I would like for everyone to leave one last review for this final chapter. Just one last review for yours truly. When I say everyone, I mean every person who has been reading. C'mon guys, I know there are more readers than I'm letting on. It would be a great honor, and I'd love to hear from the people who've read For Want of a Nail. You don't have to review all the chapters, simply this last one. Thank you._

**Writer Ramblings: **_This is the last chapter! I hope you guys are reading this! Everyone, thank you for all the reviews, faves, alerts, and compliments. I appreciate every single one of them, long or not. Thanks for making my first fic even more memorable. I can't wait to finish this and perhaps begin another project. Thank you all, again. Knowing there are a good handful of people reading brings a huge smile to my lips._

**Special Mentions: **_I'm grateful for everyone who has reviewed, but special mentions must be made! A huge thanks goes to Aquacanis for being the first of the first to review. Sandcat118 gets one for being the second reviewer of the first chapter. Another one goes to my constant reviewers: Last-Babylonian, Kijo Kurosaki, Sweet-Hearted SilverEars, melissa Ivory, and Aquacanis. Thank you all._

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><p>23.<p>

_**"It's never over till it's over." ****~American Proverb**_

He didn't really think he'd ever come to this point in his life. Drake had wealth, fame, attention, adoration from all sorts of people, and youth. However, he'd never had a true partner. All his girlfriends and boyfriends were nothing more than a few months of delights. He wasn't sure how long Dave would be with him. After all, Dave was the Prime Merlinean. He was going to die one day, a natural death or not. Drake shivered at the thought. Or perhaps Dave would leave him due to an argument. Due to a large difference between them. The frightened emotion became more prominent. Having Dave dead was better than having him with someone else.

He really shouldn't have morbid musings like that.

Drake shook his head as his plane landed. Right now, he decided he shouldn't be ruminating about life and death and everlasting relationships. He focused on the question sitting inside his head, and the small object sitting in his suitcase. He was going to do this correctly. He needed to have his back erect, his question precise, and his performance solid. Just like his shows on his recent tour.

After the plane completed the landing, Drake retrieved his bags and placed them inside the trunk of one of his expensive cars. All of the people who worked with him stepped off the plane and headed for their respective vehicles. Drake would talk to them tomorrow. That's what he usually did after a show. Drake smiled to himself; what would they think about the news when he told them? He was beginning to picture Dave's reaction as he set one suitcase in the passenger seat. He patted the black, stiff material. He proceeded to drive, thinking, _Only a few more hours until I reach the penthouse._

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Ack," Dave blurted out. "Drake will be here any minute now."

Becky checked the clock on the wall and nodded. "Have a nice reunion dinner," Becky said. "I know it sucked not to have Drake around, but it was fun hanging out with you this year."

Dave agreed. Becky spent more time with him. They went to all sorts of places and helped one another with homework (although it was usually Becky who needed the tutoring). Nonetheless, it had been a luxury to have her around. She was the one who suggested preparing a homemade dinner as opposed to getting takeout from a pricey restaurant. The meal sat on the kitchen table; the two of them decided to watch a sitcom right after.

"Thanks for helping," Dave said to her as she got her things. "I really appreciate it. I'm totally useless in the kitchen."

"Not_ totally_," Becky told him with a smile. "And no problem. I hope the food's a hit."

"It better be. Thanks again, Becky. Do you need a ride back home or anything?"

She wrapped her pink scarf around her neck and shook her head. "Nah," she replied. "Andre's picking me up. We've been doing good so far. It's nothing like you and Drake, but..." She shrugged. "Okay, enough. I'm getting out of here before Drake catches me."

"He likes you," Dave said, before adding, "Sort of."

"We'll work on it. Oh, don't mention I helped with the dinner. You should definitely tell him it was all you," Becky said. She was already heading for the door.

"Ah, Becky. Only a true friend would let me take all the credit."

"True friends," she said. Even with her back turned, Dave could sense she was smiling. It was better this way, he thought. He'd decided on it a long time ago. He'd rather have Becky as a friend than an enemy. He watched her leave the penthouse, and wished her good luck with Andre. She had been right when she said her relationship with him was nothing like his with Drake's.

He sat on the sofa and waited for Drake to arrive. Dave had a lot to tell the blonde, despite the fact he told him everything during his tour. He'd gotten much better at all sorts of spells and forms of magic. Balthazar had given him this Saturday off; a day without training was usually a relief. Dave knew it was because of one thing: engagement happiness. Balthazar's proposal to Veronica had made him much lighter. Dave wondered what Drake would say when he told him the news.

_He'd probably wonder if it was tacky, _Dave thought. Balthazar and Drake were still on odd terms. It was as if Balthazar was the overprotective father and Drake was the boyfriend with a motorcycle and leather jacket. Although Drake didn't own a motorcycle and only had leather pants. At least Veronica was on his side.

The sound of a key turning interrupted his musings. Dave eagerly hopped off the sofa, ready to embrace Drake. What did he look like now? What kind of sparkly, glittery outfit was he wearing? Did he still paint his nails black? The door opened all the way, and there was Drake Stone in all his glory. He was a bit taller than Dave remembered, but still the same. His blonde hair was perfectly spiky, his black clothes were touched up with shiny beads, and his luggage was sitting in the hallway. Dave hugged him happily, then stared at Drake's face. It was nice to know not all things changed.

"Slow down," Drake gasped. "I'm still tryin' to get used to New York air."

He laughed weakly. "Sorry; I missed you. Is that a good enough excuse?"

"I would say so." However, his arms wrapped around Dave's back and pulled him closer. Dave inhaled the aroma of foreign perfume. It smelled better than most colognes Drake tried on.

"Hey," Dave said, a bit amused he was noticing scents as well, "what's with the perfume? A special occasion?"

"Not any that I know of. Ah, I almost forgot. I got this souvenir for you."

"Where's it from?"

"London. Here. Take a look." Drake reached inside his pocket and fished out—

What the hell. That was _not_ what he expected. It was definitely not.

"Now that's one big souvenir," Dave said, blinking.

"I purchased it right from a London shop. I thought about getting gold, but I know you'd think it was pretentious," Drake admitted. "Maybe it's too early, but I don't care. Do you...want to do this thing with me?"

The white ring was so shiny, it glared at him. The gem was in the shape of an oval and the band was obviously made of silver. It sat on a puff of violet fabric. Dave had been staring at it for a couple of minutes, and while the box caught him off guard, he heard every word Drake said.

"What? Yeah. I mean, yes. Yes, I'll do this thing with you."

Dave silently picked up the ring and slid it on his ring finger. The ring was nice-looking. His mind raced hours into the future; what would happen, and what would everyone think? How would Balthazar and Veronica, the newlyweds, think? Becky and his other friends? How would being married _affect_ him? Shit. He was married and he hadn't even told his mother about the guy yet. Shit. He absorbed the image of being married, right at the fresh age of twenty-one.

Oddly, it fit.

With more certainty to his voice, he said clearly, "Yes, I'll marry you."

"Good. There wasn't an alternative," Drake responded, back to his cocky self. He smiled at Dave—a smile that required a smile in return. Dave gave him just that.

"Is this the part where we kiss?" Dave asked.

Drake didn't reply. He simply pressed his lips to Dave's. Dave gradually relaxed as Drake's tongue began to work its way into his mouth. His thoughts wandered away from his mother, his friends, Balthazar and Veronica. All he was concentrating on now was Drake.

He felt the blonde pulling away. "Do... Would you like to continue this in the bedroom?"

Dave gave up on any attempts to smile slyly. "You first."


End file.
